Remix
by sckry
Summary: Remix, Rewire, Rebirth. Two years. They all thought that everything would be better in two years, that they could finally put the past to rest. They were all wrong.
1. Rewire: First Connection

**As much as I loved Advent Children, I've always felt that there could have been a lot more put into in in terms of depth of story and so on (I understand it was short cause it was a movie and all, but still.) This will have a lot of stuff from the movie in it, but it will be vastly longer and different too. I will try to keep the theories on jenova, SHM and so on faithful to the game.**

**So, to the point. This is Remix.**

**Two years after Meteor, and the world is plagued by Geo-stigma. Three silver haired Remanants roam the the land, and they appear to be searching for something. Remanants from Shinra's past also resurface, including old enemies and allies. The reclusive Cloud Strife must come to terms with both his guilt and his team mates if they are to save the world again.**

**

* * *

**

**Rewire: First Connection**

He hated waiting.

He was an impatient man by nature, and while he could normally amuse himself at the expense of others, Reno Anderson could find little to entertain himself in the interior of the MH-53 Shinra helicopter he was currently piloting.

_'Come oon…'_

He tapped his fingers impatiently against his seat, trying not groan out loud at the mass of thick cloud that seemed to cling around the 'chopper.

He hated flying in fog.

'_Tseng, sir, look at this!'_

The sound of his junior colleague crackled on the radio in his earpiece.

A slight pause.

'_Found it.' _Tseng's flat voice stated.

_'Ugh…it's gross…'_

Reno rolled his eyes skyward at his junior's remark. Turk or no, Elena could be such a pre-teen girl at times.

There was sounds of scuffling, and movement. Reno shrugged in his jacket.

_'Hey…I think…wha-' _

_'Yo, hurry it up down there already, I'm getting old here!'_

'_Reno, bring her down.'_

Strictly business with Tseng, not so much as a hair out of place. Reno guessed that's why he was leader. He grinned at that, and tugged at the hand held controls. Things would be very different if he were in charge-

Gunfire cut through his radio and his thoughts.

_'What the-'_

The sounds of battle intensified as Reno cursed under his breath. He swung the heavy aircraft down through the fog and into the gaping jaws of the Northern Crater.

A stifled gasp of pain hissed in his ear. Reno gritted his teeth and pushed the helicopter headlong into the clearing mist.

_'Ts-Tseng…'_

Elena's strangled voice could be heard as she gasped for air. His heart was hammering away at his chest.

'…_Sir!'_

More gunfire, and heavy, running footfalls.

_'Who is that? Elena!_' Tseng called. 

Reno brought the 'chopper down low, letting it hover a few feet above the ground. The heavy fog seamed to swarm around him. He could only make out brief figures fading in and out, and short flashes of light. He had little time to study them; he was too busy trying to keep the helicopter balanced.

'_I'm down here, get the hell on already! Shit!' _Reno swore as a bullet shot through a windscreen panel to embed itself in his seat.

'_Elena, go!' _Tseng roared before a fierce spurt of gunfire echoed throughout the crater.

Palms sweaty, Reno precariously edged the aircraft closer to the ground.

'_Get on, damn it!' _he shouted in frustration.

Something, someone grabbed a hold of the landing skids and heaved themselves into the back cabin. Reno felt the machine drop with the extra weight as he struggled with the rotor controls to compensate.

The helicopter jerked up awkwardly and Reno heard the thump of a fallen body on his intercom.

_'Hey-'_

'_G-go!' _Elena's voice crackled in his ear, before another round of gunfire spewed forth.

After a split second of indecision, he complied. He was a Turk, after all.

He had a mission to complete.

* * *

I wonder…

I wonder about you, as I wait, as I think. About you.

I'm not afraid for you, you know. I only wonder how long it will be until I see you again. Which could be never.

I know your angry and upset, and that you almost hate yourself at the moment. Heck, you probably do, but that's ok. We all hate ourselves sometimes, but sometimes we love ourselves too.

That's your problem now, isn't it? You don't want to love yourself again. You don't want to love anything at the moment, and in turn, you don't want anyone to love you.

But it will never be that way. I know it, and maybe even you know it too, Cloud. Maybe you were just pretending to be oblivious, like I pretended I didn't feel that way about you.

It doesn't have to be like this always, you know.

Because there will always be a place waiting for you here.

I admit, it does get lonely sometimes, and melancholy often. It's hard to keep a smile on your face when a child is wasting away in front of you. But we try.

Sometimes I wish that you would make up your mind. Sometimes I wish it had ended happily ever after, but we both know that doesn't happen in reality.

Fairy tales are just that, tales. Stories for children. Like the ones I tell Marlene and Denzel. Except that those stories involve people who lived and died, people who laughed and got angry, people who did stupid things, and figured things out, people who, in reality, didn't always come out the other end with a smile on their faces.

People like us.

Life can be so cruel. It walks hand in hand with death after all. You know that better then anyone, or at least, you think you do.

Because we've all seen how close those two anomalies are. And everyone but you has learnt to accept it.

But I guess I can't blame you. I know I don't. You're lost, after all. Afraid.

You also don't understand that sometimes, its ok to be those things. You hate the thought of being weak, of being powerless. Because that's what it was like when she died.

And you still blame yourself.

You fear your doubt and distrust, and won't accept its reverses, hope and faith.

But you won't admit to it, your fear and your regret. You can't live like this forever, because it's tearing you apart. You're not even here and I know this.

You're a mess, Cloud Strife.

But I forgive you, even if you do not want it from me.

Do you stare at the stars, Cloud? I do, I still find them beautiful, even after all these years. I still feel that same wonder, and sometimes, I can even forget how sad I feel. I wonder if you find the time to look at them, and if you wonder too, if I or Barret or Yuffie or Cid or any of the others are looking at them too.

It is all the same sky, after all.

Sometimes, that thought comforts me. Sometimes it reminds me how far away we all are from one another.

What am I doing here, Cloud? Why am I waiting for you?

Ah, that's right, I'm waiting for you to come home.

And the possibility that, just maybe, you might have forgiven yourself. Might have accepted the fact that the doubt and the loss and the regret will always be with you, but that it's possible to also embrace the hope and the faith.

Because that's what people like us are; a little bit of dark and a little bit of light.

So I'm waiting here, and hoping, for the possibility that you may one-day realize these things and that when you do, you'll come back.

Who knows, one day you might.

* * *

'_Lifestream, the stream of life that flows around our planet. It is the origin of the planet and every life that lives on it.'_

'_In the past, a company called Shinra found a way to take Lifestream and use it as an energy source. Because of that, we were able to live a happy life. However, there were many people who believed that it drained the life out of the planet.'_

'_These people were known as Avalanche.'_

'_Shinra tried to subdue anyone and anything that stood in their way with force. Shinra had elite guards called Soldier, who were used to destroy Avalanche.'_

'_Among them was an excellent Soldier named Sephiroth. But, when he found out he was created out of a dreadful experiment, he began to hold an undying grudge against Shinra.'_

'_And, before anyone could notice, he began to hold a grudge against everything.'_

'_Then, the worst thing came falling from space. Due to his overflowing hatred, Sephiroth attempted to destroy the world.'_

'_Shinra, and those who opposed Shinra, united together in order to destroy Sephiroth.'_

'_There were many battles, and many losses, and someone we cared for died.'_

'_And then one day, the planet itself stopped all the battles. Using lifestream as its weapon, it swallowed everything made of sadness, ambition and conflict.'_

'_But, it seems the planet was angrier then we all expected.'_

She looks down upon the resting boy she has been speaking too. His gray eyes are heavy lidded, and she gets the feeling that he is in a different world of his own altogether.

_'Geo-stigma…'_

Her gaze drops to her hands, neatly clasped in front of her. She feels very old and terribly tired. She murmurs her next word quietly.

'_Please…'_

He moves, unexpectadly, as if her soft plea has brought him back to life. She hears the false bravado in his voice, though she'll pretend not to.

_'…hey Marlene,_' Raising a hand, he tentatively touches his bandaged forehead_'…how does it look?'_

'…' She can't speak, can't lie for him. She can only give off a small, cheery smile as she continues her prayer silently in her head.

'_Please don't take Denzel away from me.'_

* * *

Two years.

They all thought that everything would have been better in two years, that they could finally put the past to rest.

They were all wrong.

* * *

**Authors note: **I know this first chapter is very similare to the movie, but I'm trying to ease my story line in slowly so that it is belivable and not to 'wacky.'

The middle fragment is Marlene talking and Tifa thinking. Sorry if its a little confusing. Tifa's thoughts is from one of my one shots which I decided to delete and dump in here. Hope you like.

Please Review if you liked this and are interested to see it continue.

**renote-**I have recently edited over all of these chapters, mostly to fix up lttle mistake. This one is the only one that has undergone any major changes, so hopefully now it makes more sense.


	2. Break of Day

**Dislaimer:** I do not own FF7

**Break of Day**

The air is still cold from the chill of night. Its bite is especially potent on the open ground.

He looks at the sweeping landscape before him. Little has changed in two years. The earth is still as cracked and as dry as when they first left Midgar. Not that he is surprised. It will take hundreds of years before the lifestream returns to this part of the planet.

The dry earth crunches under his feet as he steps away from his massive motorbike. He halts, a few feet away from the crude memoriam he himself erected for the fallen.

Cloud Strife stands before the Buster Sword, jammed hard into ledge where Zack arrived and fell and Cloud rose and left. It feels like such a long time ago

Those memories are…painful to him.

Sometimes he can recall them with amazing clarity. Sometimes they appear so faded and fragmented before him he struggles to hold them in his mind.

He frowns slightly, and the two fragile flowers he held in his hand fall listlessly to the ground. The wind catches them, and gently tugs them towards the upright, rusted sword.

A familiar hollowness makes its presence felt behind him, seemingly attracted to the empty cavern that wells under Clouds ribcage. He knows that cavern is there, even if flesh and blood lie there now. He put it there. The cavern is made from his guilt and regret, and his loneliness. Cloud knows he deserves them all.

Out of the corner of his eye, he makes out the shape of a wolf. This is his hollowness, his guilt. It does not alarm him; Cloud is used to its presence now.

'I got a call from Reno. He said they had a job for you at Healin Lodge. Cloud…have you been doing alright?' 

Cloud lowers his eyes to the ground. Why that message decided to replay itself, he doesn't know. His phone seems to do that sometimes. He doesn't let it bother him.

Dawn seems to be starting, creeping slowly over the sky as it breaks through the night.

His arm begins to tingle, and then throb.

He curses.

She couldn't sleep last night, and god knows she can feel it this morning. Her head has that heavy, hazy feeling that seams to buzz around just under her eyelids. Groaning, she unfolds her sprawled limbs and pushes herself out of bed.

_I should be used to early mornings,_ she thinks ruefully.

Standing up in the darkened room, she fumbles for her dressing down before stumbling in the general direction of the door. Out of the corner of her eye she can see the red, digital numbers blinking at her.

5:45

Oh joy.

She doesn't bother to turn on the light as she leaves the dim room to make her way quietly to the bathroom. The hallway is long and full of steps, and for a moment she wonders how on earth the kids manage to memorize every single one that creaks.

Tifa smiles to herself as the wood groans under her weight. Almost there.

* * *

As the water runs across her body, she can wash away the gritty feeling that plagues her eyes, the result of too many salty tears shed over too many nights.

Clean. That's how she needs to feel. Simple and clean. She thinks that that was the name of a song she once heard, and subconsciously begins humming the tune under her breath.

She smiles up at the showerhead, feeling the water pummel her eyelids, but it is a sad smile. She is certainly clean now but nothing can ever be simple. But, for the moment, she will pretend that it is so.

The water stops and she steps carefully out of the small shower, quickly grabbing a towel from the rack as her bare skin rises in goosebumps down her arms and back.

Edge gets far too cold in winter, and her heating system is constantly breaking down. She is thankful, though, that they rarely run short of hot water.

Towel wrapped firmly around her, Tifa twists her hair in an attempt to wring excess water out. It's hard; her dark hair is that thick. Giving up, she straightens, turning to face the fogged up mirror before her. Feeling childish, she reaches out a tentative hand and draws a simple happy face on the mirror. She can just see her own reflection in the clear lines. It looks fragmented.

Sighing, she wipes the glass clear.

_None of that, _she tells herself, _you've got a lot to do today._

She tries out a cheerful, happy smile, and her reflection appears so genuine she can't help but feel disheartened.

* * *

Marlene sits at the edge of the bar, her head resting on crossed arms. She watches quietly as Tifa rummages through her backpack. She always travels light, all of Avalanche do. Marlene knows that it's simply habit after all the travelling and fighting they did two years ago.

It's just past six thirty, but most of the kids are awake. They all came down to see their guardian off. The younger ones are still half-asleep, yawning loudly and dozing on their feet. A girl Marlene's age is hopping on her toes, asking Tifa if there is anything else she needs.

Marlene rubs her nose on her arm as Tifa smiles at the girl and declines the offer of help. She's known Tifa almost as long as she can remember and wishes that she wasn't leaving. Marlene hates it when people leave. Not at simple leavings, like when people are going out to the shops or something. She hates it when people go away, for a long time. She hates it when they go away and they don't come back.

Like Wedge, Jessie and Biggs. Like Cloud.

Even though she knows Tifa will always come back, she always feels queasy in her stomach at goodbyes anyway. She feels the same when her Papa goes away after visiting, even though he calls her regularly. Marlene's afraid that one day he'll be gone.

Her eye's start to feel all tingly, and she feels like she wants to cry. For she knows that Denzel is leaving, too. He's sick, and he wants to stay, but Marlene can feel him slowly fading away.

'_Marlene, are you all right dearest?'_

She looks up to see Elmyra peering down at her. Marlene nods quickly and plasters a smile on her face.

'_I'm fine, Auntie.'_

Elmyra smiles but doesn't look convinced. The older woman rubs her gently on her back.

'_Tifa will be back before you know it, don't you worry.'_

Marlene lets her shoulders sink. She couldn't fool Elmyra. The other guardian of the Seventh Heaven Orphanage knew how she felt. Elmyra had consoled Marlene when her Pa had left for the final battle all those years ago. Elmyra knew Marlene feared that those that left did not come back again. Elmyra knew that sometimes, Marlene was right.

'_I know.' _She answered quietly.

The woman sighs sadly, and Marlene has to try to not mimic the gesture. She looks down at the floor instead. She sees Elmyra look up sharply and is aware that a pair of feet has approached them.

'_I'll be off now. I'll call when reach Costa Del Sol…'_

Marlene looks up to see Tifa talking to Elmyra.

'_You just call if you need me to come back, ok?_

Elmyra shakes her head and smiles.

'_I'm sure we'll be fine here, Tifa, we'll cope without you.'_

Tifa laughs softly and Marlene can see that she doesn't really want to go.

'_All right then. Take care, Elmyra, don't let them run riot.'_

She turns to an expecting Marlene, who has slipped quietly off her stool so that she can embrace her guardian properly. The young girl reaches up as Tifa kneels down and wraps her arms around her in a tight hug. Marlene wants to tell Tifa to stay, but knows that that wouldn't be fair of her.

'_You take care now, and give Denzel a hug from me, I didn't want to wake him.'_

Marlene nods solemnly as she gazes into the woman's face. A reassuring smile answers her before Tifa kisses her cheek and pulls away.

'_See you later.' _And Marlene watches as she goes around to every child in the room, giving out hugs, reassuring smiles and words of farewell.

'_Bye Tifa!'_

'_Bring us back sommat, won'tchya?'_

'_Have fun in Nni…Nibal…Nibelheim!'_

'_Come back soon!'_

The eight or so kids dance around her, reaching out to grab her clothing or to pat her goodbye. Tifa laughs again and Marlene notices that this time it is genuine.

A final wave to them all and then, she is gone. They all race to the door and onto the street and wave furiously as she walks away. Marlene included. Passersby glance briefly at them, some smiling to themselves with thoughts of their own families. They see her glance back a final time before she turns a corner and is lost to sight.

The children stand there in silence for a moment, waiting and unsure. They feel a collective sense of loss; their mother is gone, after all. Marlene's heart feels heavy, but she is comforted by the thought that, for the moment, her friends and her all feel the same.

_'Come on in now, breakfasts ready!_' Elmyra calls from the doorway. 

Just like that, the spell is broken. The boys jostle each other as the girls scramble to get their place at the table, and Marlene is left standing alone on the sidewalk. She scuffs her feet against the concrete.

'_C'mon Marlene, we'll miss out' _A hand grabs her arm and she looks up to see a smiling face beaming at her. Sari tugs again at her arm and Marlene has to grin.

_'Last one in's a rotten egg!'_

'_Hey!'_

* * *

Reno is cursing Rufus Shinra's name at the moment. It's been two days since he left Northern Crater and there's been no word from either Tseng or Elena.

They have to assume the worst.

The President showed nothing, no emotion at all when Reno arrived with a shot up helicopter, a body, and a little black box. That royally pissed him off, but no matter what he felt, he could do nothing. He was a Turk, and he had to follow whatever orders Rufus handed out.

Rude felt the same. He didn't show it, but Reno had known the bulky man long enough to pick up even the slightest hint of emotion. His jaw had been locked up tight, and his shoulders went stiff when Rufus said they could not look for their comrades.

And now this.

Some punk was calling Reno's phone, using Elena's number, saying he wanted to speak with the boss and asking where his mother was.

_'She ain't here, damn it, why the hell do'ya have 'lena's phone!!'_

The voice on the other end of the line sounded cruel and young.

_'Don't try to trick us, ne? Where is she?'_

'_I fucken' told you-'_

'_heh. No need to get so loud.'_

Reno grinds his teeth together and tries to keep his cool. He's a red head by nature, with a fiery temper on the rare occasion someone rubs him the wrong way.

This is one of those occasions. Though, given circumstances, he'll shoot the first person who can honestly blame him for it now.

'_I don't want to talk to you, underling, get me 'Mister President'.'_

Reno told him where to shove it.

The line went dead.

'_FUCK!' _he yelled and threw the phone at the wall.

Rude smoothly ducked the torpedo mobile and raised an eyebrow at his partner.

_'What did they want?_' 

Rufus's smooth voice floats to Reno's ears. If Reno had been more concerned about the whole respect side of the servant-master thing, he would apologize for swearing in front of his boss.

_'Some fucken' loon on 'lena's phone askin' where his fucken' mother is!!'_

_'And what did you tell them?' _

_'You heard, didn't you?'_ Reno snaps without thinking.

_'hmm…'_

Reno growls under his breath at the quiet disapproval and turns to face his boss.

_'I told him I didn't know what he was on about an' he said we were trying to trick him. Then he asked to speak to you and I told him to shove it-'_

'_Good.' _Rufus cut him off. The red head eyes the wheelchair bound man warily. Silences like this mean that Rufus was thinking, contemplating, planning his next move.

_'Rude, what is the situation with our 'guest'?'_

The burly man nods curtly.

'_Still unconscious, sir. No change.'_

'_Bring me her file, the old Shinra one.'_

'_Yes sir.'_ He walks briskly out of the room.

Another pause fills the air, making Reno impatient. He has too much energy, and nothing to take it out on.

_'Any reply from Strife?'_

'_No.'_

'_Try Lockhart again, see if she's heard from him.'_

With that, ex-president Shinra maneuvers his chair swiftly out the same door through which Rude had departed.

Reno curses his name again, reaching for his phone.

* * *

**Authors note: **Thanks to those who reviewed, hope you all like this chapter!

Some of my plot deviations are beginning to make themselves known, so I hope they make sense.

Anyone want to guess who's Rufus's 'guest' from the Northern Crator? Only info I'm giving out is that she's female and not an OC, and has a history with Shinra (well, she'd had too, they have a file on her.)

Please tell me if you think any characters are out of wack, I think I got most of them alright...

Chapter 3: Focus


	3. Focus

**Focus**

'_Oi, old man, are ya coming or not!?'_

'_Shut up, brat, it's my ship and I'll fly in my own damn time!'_

The great ninja Yuffie huffs impatiently in the doorway of Cid's house in Rocket Town. _Man, I am so sick of this dump,_ she thinks.

True, she had been glad to get off that cursed ship when they landed. She had been as green as a freakin' cacture and had all but kissed the ground when she fell on it.

Yuffie was sure Cid had made the ship sway more just to goad her.

'_Turbulence, my arse' _she grumbles to no one in particular. They had been here a week now, and frankly, Yuffie couldn't wait to hit the skies again. Sure, she'd be as sick as a dog, but she had made sure to stock up on a whole heap of tranquilizers, so she figured she'd be right for a while

'_Come oooon.' _

She groans to herself, rolling her dark eyes to the heavens. Scowling, she kicks at a weed in the pavement as she begins to walk around the house.

Cid would probably take longer, now she had bugged him in the middle of a cup of tea. Yuffie scowled to herself again, _stupid Continentals and their stupid, Continental tea. _She had tried the stuff once, on Cid's insistence, with mixed results.

Not that she was a huge fan of Wutain tea, but it tasted a whole lot better then the weak, milky stuff Cid chugged down so often. Coffee, now there was a Continental drink she could like.

The Wutain girl grinns. She was a nightmare when she got her hands on the stuff. Cid and his crew had their stash hidden away under lock and key.

Not that that was much good against the greatest ninja on the planet.

Puffing out her cheeks, Yuffie gazed up at the gleaming hull of the Sierra resting on the field that borders Cid's, or rather Shera's, garden. She was a freakin' luxury cruiser compared to the old Highwind. Everything was new, for a start. Yuffie smiles at the thought of the old rust bucket that had served as Avalanche's base two years earlier. It's damaged shell still lay on the outskirts of Midgar. Cid had chosen to _'let the old girl rest where she fell.'_

'_Hey brat! The captain coming yet or not?'_

She looks up to see the lean, grinning face of Neil Fleming, Cid's First Mate and co-pilot, as he saunters down the Sierra's ramp.

'_He's drinking tea…and since when did I give you permission to call me brat?'_

'_Since you started acting like one, I can guess why he's taken so long.' _He gives her a wink and walks off towards the house.

Yuffie's fuming now.

'_Ooohhh, you are so lucky I haven't shurikened you in the back, jerk!'_

* * *

Rufus Shinra glances over the file before him, deep in thought. He had never expected anything like this to occur. He wondered how much it would change the grand scheme of things.

The person that lay before him, unconscious in the small, simple room he had allocated as a makeshift cell her in Healin, did not move apart from the from the slight rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes did not flutter under her closed lids, the woman was not dreaming.

He ponders. He never had much to do with her in the past, back when he was much younger, much more rash and angry. He had deemed her unimportant and a subordinate, not worthy of his time.

But, now, she had been found in the Northern Crater, when all reports handed to him by his Turks had indicated she had died all those years ago.

It was ironic, that he should send in Tseng and Elena into that place of death and to have Reno return with only her.

Fate had a wry sense of humor.

Of course, the woman wasn't the only thing Reno had managed to bring back. The expedition certainly had not been fruitless.

He fingers the smooth, black box hidden under his white cloak, and smiles coldly.

* * *

Cid Highwind boards the Sierra grinning like a madman. Yuffie pokes her tongue out at him. The captain has taken a full hour to get here.

She is surprised to see Neil in a similar state of perpetual amusement. Even more so when Cid does nothing more then ruffle her hair affectionately as he walks by.

Cid's never done that before.

Yuffie possesses an inborn, mental radar for detecting when something's up. And she's always, _always_ right. Intrigued, she tags behind Cid as he makes his way to the main hanger.

'_What's got you so happy?'_

Cid gives her a brief glance and merely chuckles. She is further baffled, and looks to Neil for an answer. He grins and shrugs his shoulders in a gesture that tells her she's going to have to wait to find this one out.

Yuffie is not the most patient of people.

'_C'mon Cid, spill, don't be such a mizer for once.'_

But it seems that nothing will break Cid's happy mood.

They reach the end of the corridor that opens out into the main hanger area. Cid strides out to the pilot's area, leans over one of the many control panels, and picks up the hand held speaker. He flicks the red switch on the panel and a buzzing fills the hallways of the ship as the loud speaker registers on.

Yuffie stands back, arms crossed and her weight on one leg.

_Dn…Dng…Dnng…Dinng_

The blond captain brings the hand held up to his face. He shoots a grin at a waiting Yuffie and pauses deliberately before starting.

'_Crew members of the Sierra, to attention, this is your captain speaking. I have an announcement to make.'_

Another deliberate pause. Yuffie scowls at him again. The crew members in the hanger look up, interested.

_'I, Cid Highwind…'_

Yuffie rolls her eyes and feigns a yawn.

'…_am gonna be a GOD DAMN FATHER!!'_

Her jaw drops. Cheering whoops from the crew can be heard and Cid's grin is wider and more lopsided then before. His men come up and slap him on the back in congratulations, and First Mate Neil is laughing at the expression on her face.

Cid…a father?

* * *

He wipes away the dust and sweat from his forehead and wonders bitterly why this has happened.

It doesn't take a genius to realize something's up when you're attacked by two men who look like the reincarnations of your vanquished foe.

He watches their receding forms and wonders if he should give chase. He knows he probably should, but his arm has started throbbing and he is still reeling from the shock of seeing silver hair and green eyes anywhere but in his nightmares.

Why?

Deep down, he isn't surprised. He should have guessed this fight wasn't over. Maybe it never would be. He remains motionless on Fenrir, still watching the space where the two men had been and left.

The dust was settling.

…_Beep…_

That would be his voice messenger malfunctioning again. The calls must of come while he was fighting. Not that it matters, he never answers. He can't bring himself to, and yet, he is loath to switch the phone off. He takes comfort in their one sided conversations, their voices remind him of better days when he still believed he was worth something.

'_Hey, it's me, Barret! You won' believe this, we found a new oil field! OIL FIELD! y'hear? DAMNED HUGE! We're righ' on schedule, so I'll be down ta see Marlene soon. Tell her hi for me, will ya Spike?'_

The man's brash, genuine enthusiasm could be inspiring, and the corner of his mouth twitches as he thinks of times gone by, and how little patience Barret had with him.

'_There's another call from Reno. Just hurry, he says. He seemed a little odd…Cloud, be careful.' _

He sets his mouth in a thin line. She is a part of his guilt and regret, and although she does not mean to, the sound of her voice is one that hurts him. Maybe because it is full of promise, of concern, of forgiveness that he cannot allow himself to have. Maybe it's because she still calls him even after all the silence.

Cloud knows he does not deserve such faith.

He breathes in. Maybe it would be beneficial to visit the former President of Shinra Corporations at Healin Lodge. He had a feeling that the President was involved in the appearance of the two Sephiroth look alikes, and that Rufus had most likely anticipated that he would not leave this matter alone

That would at least give him something to focus on.

* * *

She awoke to nothing.

White fills her vision, and a hazy buzzing noise is filling her ears.

_What is this? _Is her first thought, _Oblivion?_

Seconds pass, and she realizes that she has a body.

Which is peculiar, because she cannot ever recall having one before.

The buzzing in her ears is fading slowly, to be replaced by a strange howling wind that seems to shut off at regular intervals.

She frowns. That action in itself feels strange to her. The movement of skin and muscle as it slides over bone is foreign yet seemingly natural.

The hollow, howling noise continues to break, and she realizes that it is coming from within her. More so, she is the one creating the noise. She is breathing.

With this realization, the noise halts as her breath catches in her throat. It begins to fade, as things fall back into proper perspective.

She blinks; something she had forgotten she could do. Her eyelids flutter rapidly in succession as she tests this new movement. Then she tries out frowning again.

The white oblivion appears to be moving, changing, coming into focus. Criss-crossing lines appear, fuzzy at first before slowly becoming sharper and more defined.

Blinking again to make the focus come more quickly, another new, yet familiar sensation returns to her.

Touch.

All over the body she remembers somehow acquiring. Rough, but soft and warm. Different textures in different places. The warmth is soothing, comfortable, comes to her mind.

Everything seems to slide into place. Her eyes, her eyelids, they are apart of her face which has a nose and mouth and ears and hair. She has arms too, and legs, a torso.

A twitch, in the tips of her fingers, she can feel all of them now, gleeful at this new thought of moving. She tries to move deliberately again, and suddenly, they are shaking, jerking uncontrollably. Her knees jerk up and her toes curl viscously. She starts to panic. He arms are flailing and she finds her fingers clenched tight and digging deep into her palms.

_Bodies don't do this!_ She wants to scream, but the muscles in her neck and face spasm wildly. All that comes out is a strangled gargle and she has never been so afraid. Her limbs are caught, they are hitting things and she wishes desperately for oblivion. Fear is rising within her, making her body struggle more.

Bang! 

_Pound_

_Pound_

_Pound_

She cannot see. Something arrives and she feels a great weight on her. Iron-like vices wrap around her flailing limbs and hold them forcefully still. But still they move, they flail, they spasm.

An arm breaks free and sails through the air. She feels it smash into something fleshy (_what is fleshy?_) and more noises are heard.

…_oOOhShi…_

The offending arm is seized once again in an iron grip. She begins choking, her tongue has collapsed into her throat.

…_fFuucrudesShess…_

Something pierces her arm.

She screams, and falls back into a black oblivion.

* * *

**Authors notes:** So, anyone out there intruigued? Slightly interested? No guesses on the id of the mystery guest yet so I assume your all stumped.

I quiet enjoyed writing the last segment, trying to describe someone discovering they actually exist. Hope you liked it too.

Next chapter: Underlying the Cold


	4. Underlying the Cold

**Disclaimer: **The usual, nothing owned by me.

**Underlying the Cold**

The ocean has always fascinated her.

She was a mountain girl, born and bred, but that did nothing to quell the fascination she had always had with that vast expanse of blue water that covered two thirds of the planet.

Mountain streams ran icy cold, always moving down and away. Always leading to the ocean.

Her parents had once taken her to see beach, long ago before her mother grew too ill to do much. They had gone with another family, her and the son, Johnny, his name was, had played on the sand while their fathers kept careful watch.

The village, no more then a couple of small houses clumped together with a crude stone and wooden fence surrounding it, was composed of fisher folk, a proud, weathered people who lived by the rules of the ocean and the wind.

That village was where her mother was from, she remembers. Inanna, is what it was called. They had completely bypassed it during their ventures across Planet two years ago. That was the first and only time she ever met her maternal grandparents. It was dangerous to travel, especially with young children, and her mothers kin refused to move away from their beloved ocean.

Yes, it had fascinated her, even then. She remembered the rasping voice and the long whiskers of her Grandfather as he sat her on her knee and told her about the wild, untamable nature of the sea.

_'Across this sea rests the ocean god-snake, Leviathan, or Kaitei en'yu, to his people. When the ocean is calm, you know he is with his people, but when the waves crash and the swell is high, you know he is here chasing after his lover, Nin-anna, who resides in the waters that line this land…'_

'_Old wives tales…'_ Her father had laughed.

She smiles. After all, she is sailing across such waters. Sure, she is on the other side of the continent from Inanna, but she is certain that the sea goddess won't discriminate.

Breathing in the salty air, Tifa pulls her gaze away from the white wash that lines the boats passage through the water to peer at the approaching land mass.

She makes a mental note to call Edge once they reach port. She briefly hopes her chocobo, Inna, has fared the sea journey fine. But, seeing as Inna is of the blue variety, Tifa assumes that the bird will be well enough.

For a moment, though, she can not worry about the kids she had given a home. She can forget the troubled man with glowing blue eyes and a lost heart. She can ignore the curious messages from a once-foe.

Straightening, she lets her arms slid off the salt encrusted railing, letting the wind buffet her face and hair. It is cold, fresh, and seemingly alive.

For a moment, all that exists is this wind, and this ocean, and herself.

She can't help but smile into it.

* * *

The chill air bites at his skin, but he is in too much pain for it to worry him. Something blocks up his throat, and he spits out blood while trying not to wince.

'_Are you ready to talk to me now, Mister Turk, Or do you still need something to loosen your tongue?'_

The voice above him is young and cruelly mocking. It's like being taunted at by a child.

Tseng rolls onto his stomach and tries to push his battered torso up with his shaking arms. His dark hair, now messy and loose and streaked with blood and sweat hangs limply over his face. His muscles strain with the effort, as he uses his forearms to lever himself up.

Footsteps pace around his. He catches a glimpse of shiny, black boots before someone grabs his hair and yanks his head up.

'_I asked you a question, neh? Did you not hear me?'_

That face is far too young to look so condescending. A slight frown mars the other wise perfect features of the face.

'_Did you not hear me? Answer me!'_

_He truly is a child_, Tseng thinks with some cold satisfaction,_ he throws a tantrum when he's ignored._

'_I said-'_

The hand lets go, and he barely has time to balance himself before his head snaps violently to the side after a viscous backhand.

_'-rrRRHAH!'_

Tseng drops to the ground, and some old, well worn instinct of his causes his body to roll away to the side.

Not that it does much. The hard kick still catches him in the ribs anyway.

'_Tell ME!!!'_

He is thrown onto his back and a black gloved hand slams into his throat and squeezes.

The man, no, the boy above him is snarling at him with brandished teeth, green eyes livid. His silver hair falls down over his face, and once again, Tseng can't help but shudder at his resemblance to the dead General.

The hand tightens and Tseng begins to gurgle unwillingly as his airway is cut off. He tries to swallow, tries to breach the pain that feels like a blunt knife around his voice box. The cold ground beneath roughly scraps at his skin.

_He is losing control,_ he thinks. The silver haired man will never extract information from them like this. Torture is a delicate thing; one has to play a cruel mind game with the victim as well physically tormenting them. Against a normal man, such tactics weren't needed, but with someone like a Turk, well, it was a whole different story.

Tseng allows himself to smirk at the boy, even as he feels his vision fazing out from a lack of oxygen. A Turk could fight back against such captors in a mental battle the silver haired trio did not even realize they were fighting.

A Turk was taught this kind of thing.

The boy shrieks in rage at the smirk, rips his hand off Tseng's throat and brings it down heavily onto his face. The Turk barely sucks in his first breath of air before he feels the blow smash onto his cheek. Luckily, it hits his cheekbone and glances off.

Tseng is not so fortunate the next time. Another blow, breaking his nose, another, splitting his lip, another crashing into his eye, another, another.

Through the blood and the pain he hazily thanks Da Chao that now at least he can breath.

* * *

He slouches against the doorframe, the epitome of the word 'uninterested.' Mind you, this outward appearance isn't unusual for him. It's a good tactic; it throws most enemies off guard.

Not that there are many enemies in this room, just one unconscious chick and a whole bunch of white. Reno fingers the nose that was broken during her little spasm session. No lasting damage, supposedly, but he wonders if a crooked nose would have given his face more of a roughish appearance compared to his current feminine features.

He scowls at this thought, and at the woman on the bed. She has not stirred since that day, and he wonders how much Rufus isn't telling him.

* * *

Elmyra worries. She is a woman, an aging one at that, but it does not change the fact that she has a lot to worry about.

It has been four days since Tifa left Edge.

She worries about the woman, her daughter's friend, comrade in arms, rival, and now her own employer to some extent. Tifa works hard for her charges, keeping a smile on her face for them.

Taking care of thirteen children is not an easy task. These kids are orphans, unruly and rebellious from their time surviving on the streets, many of them are deathly sick.

It is only the younger ones who stay, really. The older ones, often brothers or sisters to the sick youngsters at Seventh Heaven, choose to keep their independence, as they think of it, out on the streets. Both Elmyra and Tifa know they're out there, they both try to help them. Seventh Heaven offers a free meal for any kid who wishes it, though many of them are too proud to take it for nothing. These older ones try to help out in return, fetching groceries, fixing up the house, painting the windowsills, scavenging pretty trinkets from the rubble of Old Midgar to offer as gifts.

They are a proud bunch, and Elmyra worries for them too. She can see the result of hard living on their young faces; she had lived in the Slums, after all. She still finds it hard to look at the rough, makeshift bandages covering the black mark of Geo-Stigma. So she tries hard not to wince at the sight of their thin, strained faces. These ones do not want pity.

Marlene, Barret's daughter, Elmyra worries for her plenty. The little girl is far too quiet and somber for her age. The child worries too much, for her father, away in the mines, for her guardians, both present and absent, and for her friend, locked away in his own world of illness.

Cloud Strife. Elmyra remembers him; her worry extends to him too. Her daughter's bodyguard, rescuer, and so many other things that she can only speculate on. He made her happy though, taking her away from Midgar's suffocating presence. She is grateful to him for that. Elmyra remembers the happiness in Aerith's voice when she had last called, like she had finally found her path. Now he shuts himself away from all those who care for him.

Yes, Elmyra worries a lot.

* * *

So he is here.

Whatever it is the former President of Shinra wants with him, well, he is going to find out soon.

Cloud eases Fenrir to a standstill, and stares at the plain building in front of him. It is a far cry from the impressionable tower of steel and glass that used to house the Shinra headquarters. That building is nothing but cold dust and old rubble now amidst the ruins of Midgar. He would smirk in derision at obvious fall from grace, but that never was his style and he is too weary for such petty snideness.

His footfalls sound heavily on the wooden ramp. He briefly wonders why the ramp and not just steps but he dismisses the thought as unimportant. He's been doing that a lot, lately, dismissing his own thoughts.

The ones that make him human.

He hears the soft scuff of a step behind the door. Without hesitation, he opens it and swiftly brings his sword out to clash with the mag-rod being thrust at him.

Turk.

They pause for a moment, before the agitated redhead brings back his weapon and charges. Cloud simply slides out the way and allows the Turk's own momentum to carry him out the door.

He hears a baffled '_huh?' _and shuts the door in his face.

There is a moment of silence, before the familiar lazy drawl comments from outside.

'_Damn, as much as can be expected, eh?'_

Cloud doesn't bother to reply. The Turks partner, Rude, is walking slowly and calmly to face him. The big man tightens his fighting gloves, and Cloud has a brief flash of another fist fighter doing the same thing. It is gone and forgotten quickly though.

'_Yo Rude! You kick arse!'_

They both ignore him.

Rude darts forward. Cloud reacts on instinct, and the blade is at the big mans throat. Rude swallows, before straightening and nodding in acknowledgment at the swordsman's superiority. He knows when he's out matched.

'_What else could be expected from an ex-Soldier?'_

Cloud frowns at the new, cold voice. It is one he does not care much to hear again. A wheelchair smoothly drives out, its driver concealed beneath a white cloak. The smooth voice continues.

'_Your skills are impressive as ever.' _The tall Turk moves to stand protectively beside his master. Cloud tilts his head up in a gesture of half defiance and half mockery.

'_Rufus Shinra…' _It is the name of an old nemesis, and it does not rest easy on his tongue. He notes the bandaged arm, concealed under white cloth. _'Fate has not been kind to you.'_

'_Hn' _he laughs, and Cloud frowns again. He does not like being toyed with.

'_That day…I…' _Rufus starts, sounding almost as if he is in a confession booth. Cloud doesn't like the tone.

'_Why did you call me?' _

'_Just before the-' _The ex-president starts again.

He doesn't want to hear this. He doesn't want this cold man to speak like a human being. Cloud shudders inwardly at the echo of those words, that phrase.

He doesn't want to think about that, not now.

'_Who were those people that attacked me?'_

'Listen-' 

'_Don't wanna hear it!'_

Cloud's had enough of this.

He turns away, almost angry. He should of known it was a waste of time coming here. Rufus was still as slippery and conniving as he was two years ago, trying to catch him in web. Cloud doesn't know why or what for, he only knows that a net is being readied.

He had wanted to cut away his ties to Shinra once and for all.

'…_lend me your strength…' _A change of tactics.

'_Not interested.' _But he remains where he is. He is intrigued, to say the least, against his better judgement.

'_We at Shinra…' _Rufus pauses deliberately, he knows that Cloud is listening _'…we owe much to this planet. We are responsible for its current state-it is true, and we must somehow repay this debt of ours…'_

Cloud is dubious at his sincerity. He treats those words warily, as if they were poisonous. There's an impatient thump on the door.

_'Oi, let me in already!'_

Cloud kicks the door in response. He sees a slight smile tug at Rufus's lips, and he wonders if the man ordered Reno to be a deliberate nuisance. Perhaps he thought it would unnerve him, or put him at ease. Whatever the reason, the ex-president continues.

'Our first step, we began an investigation of the remaining Sephiroth influences-' 

'_Northern Crater, yah?' _The Turk calls out.

His head jerks up and there is a visible frown etched on his furrow.

'What do you think was there?' 

Cloud turns slightly and narrows his eyes at the partially concealed man.

'_Nothing. There was nothing.' _His soft words sound laced in deceit, like the lies you tell to calm small children '_ No need to worry…but…'_

There was always a but.

_'…Something…unexpected happened. Someone is trying to hinder us. It is the same people who attacked you…Kadaj's gang…'_

'_Kadaj…'_ he whispers absentmindedly, thinking back to the two men whom he had fought earlier on. Not a normal gang of thugs then, no. Something much more. Clouds jaw clenches unbeknownst to himself.

_'It seems they want to interfere with our plans…heh…' _The ex-president allows himself another small smirk of seemingly self derision, as if he is bemused at the whole matter _'…I can't figure out why.'_

Cloud doesn't want to play this mind game; he refuses to play up to Rufus.

_'Why did they attack me?'_

Rufus tilts his head slightly, as if he expected this question. Cloud curses him inwardly. It is not him that answers though.

_'…you with us, right?'_ The voice on the other side of the door sounds slightly disgruntled, even reluctant. Cloud doesn't acknowledge the statement-cross-question.

_'Kadaj's gang are young, yet extremely dangerous. So, we decided we needed someone of your…talents, a skilled body guard, if you will…'_

'I'm no longer hired mercenary.' Surely Rufus knew that Cloud would never agree, never take up such an offer? He turns to go; there are no answers to be found in Healin, not from the mouth of Rufus Shinra at least.

Yet he pauses. Something one of the nightmare men said that niggles at his mind.

_'What's this 'mother' they talk about?'_

The cloaked man inclines his head, as if he is offering out a gift of sorts.

_'Kadaj said something, hm? Well, I wouldn't worry about it._' That smooth, flawless voice continues_ 'All children yearn for their mothers. I heard you're living with orphans, wouldn't you want to see those children smile?…our ultimate goal is to help the planet, Cloud.'_

_'I…'_

Is this the man's secret weapon, guilt? Cloud has enough of that on his hands already, yet he feels the pull on his heart all the same. Could he make it better for them, the ones suffered so much yet deserved none of it? Would he be turning his back on them if he refused?

_'Come on, man, we're rebuilding Shinra!'_

The guilt trip is broken, and Cloud feels strangely grateful to the red-head. Rufus and his silky words were all poison and ice.

_'Not interested.'_

He walks out immediately.

* * *

_'Cover me for a minute or two, will ya bro? Thanks, I owe ya one.'_

His partner slinks out the door again not waiting for a response. Rude sighs at the muttered request and turns to his young boss.

Ah, Rufus was a cold one, still cocky too. The Turk knew his boss was inwardly seething at Strife's refusal. He enjoyed the mind games, oh sure; he had planned out most of that conversation in order to snare the ex-soldier into working for him. But Rufus Shinra did not take rejection, or failure, lightly.

There would be no raging out bursts, fits of fury and frustration, but Reno had slipped up deliberately and sooner or later Rufus would make him pay for it in that cold calculating way of his. For all Rude knew, Reno had slipped out for this very reason, to evade the silent loathing or quick, scathing remarks.

For all that he claimed to be redeemed, Rude saw it clearly; the man was stone cold underneath that flesh.

People don't change, not really.

* * *

**Authors note: **Geez, quiet a long one here. It was mainly that cloud/rufus talk, pretty repeditive an nothing new, I know, but it is coming next chapter, so bare with me please!

I made that Inanna town up cause I figured that there would be a couple of miniscule towns about. I mean, the wutai island only had the one town, and they supposedlt were a great nation once. The name 'Inanna' is from an old fertility/moon/cunning goddess that was around before the Greeks dreamt up Aphrodiati (spellings wrong, i know) I found on Wikipedia, in case your interested.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Oh yes, and novie gets points for guessing that Hojo is the mystery girl. (would you be surprised if I said she was right?)

Thats all!


	5. Surface Tension

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**Surface Tension**

'_Yo! Strife man, wait up!'_

Cloud grits his teeth and glares at him. Ignoring the growing throb in his arm, he jams the keys into Fenrir and pointedly ignores the Turk.

He just wants to be out, and away.

'_Look! Just wait, eh?'_

Reno is scrambling over the ramp railings in an attempt to get to him. Cloud revs up the engine and kicks the stand down.

'_No wait!'_

Cloud glares again at the man currently slapping his hands down onto Fenrir's front, effectively blocking all chance of Cloud leaving unless he wants to leave behind some road kill Reno.

For a moment he considers it. He was in no mood to deal with anybody, let alone a Turk, but he is sick of fighting after all. The Turks face is intense, almost determined, and he doesn't hide the gleeful look of relief off his face when Cloud kills the engine.

'_What?' _Cloud stares balefully at Reno and crosses his arms impatiently. He has next to zero tolerance left and the sharp-laced pain in his arm is growing. He tries not to let the spasms show.

Reno tightens his lips in a way that suggests that Rufus hadn't asked him to come down.

'_There's something I wanna show ya.'_

'…'

'_I need a little bit o' help, nothing too drastic' _he brings his hands up to emphasize his point _'It'll take ten minutes, max, and no dealing with the Shinra man, yo?'_

Cloud sighs.

* * *

Reno acts calm and in control, like a Turk should be, but inside he's twitching in agitation and pent up frustration. He won't let Strife see it though; damn, this really was a last resort, getting him to help.

But then, Reno doesn't have much choice. Rude was as baffled as he was and Rufus was keeping a tight lid on what the deal was with the girl.

So, Strife it was then.

He leads the scowling blond man through the back entrance of the clinic. Whitewashed corridors, clean and prim, appear passive and nondescript and Reno hates them. It's too quiet here, especially in that room, and the blank, boring walls put up a façade of peacefulness that annoys the hell out of him.

They turn down one last corridor before reaching the room. Reno slips out his key card and slides it through before typing in his code word.

'_No peeking.' _He says slyly to Strife as he punches in the numbers. He gets an impassive stare in return.

The lock clicks open and he slowly opens the door. Strife enters first, and Reno checks the hallway for witnesses before following.

He turns to meet the back of Cloud.

_'Yo, what's the hold up-'_

'_Reno.'_

'_Yaw?'_

He's got his annoying, laid back act going on because, really, he has no idea what Strife's reaction will be. Ignoring his nerves and irritation, Reno shoves his hands into his pockets and stalks to the other side of the hospital bed to investigate the machinery he has seen before.

Strife is still standing there, staring at the woman on the bed. No violent tendencies showing yet, so Reno counts himself slightly lucky.

_'What is this?'_ Cloud has that tone of voice that demands an answer, and a good one at that. 

Reno sighs and straightens, looking sideways at his once enemy.

'_This…' _he begins slowly '_…is what I need help with.'_

He's growing uncomfortable under that intense blue gaze. He shrugs it off, or tries to.

_'We found her up North, in that lovely crater. She's woken up, but…'_ Reno taps his finger on his temple playfully and gives a wry grin _'Not all there, yo?_'

He doesn't say that Elena saved this woman at the possible expense of her own life, just like he doesn't mention that both Elena and Tseng are now missing and presumed dead. That is irrelevant.

Bitter, he feels so bitter.

Cloud is still staring at him, slightly incredulous, judging him and whatever possible motives he could have for showing him the girl. Reno bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to appear impatient. He couldn't care less about Strife's opinion of him, but he wants to know the deal with her, and he doesn't want Rufus or Rude to walk-or roll-in. That would be…awkward.

_'Why…come to me?'_

Reno sighs and rolls his eyes.

_'That don't matter. Look, can you just…look at her and see if you can figure out what's wrong with her?'_

He can see that Strife is still deliberating whether to help him. Reno almost tells him to get fucked if he isn't going to help, but swiftly bites his tongue when the blond steps forward and shifts his gaze to the girl. Reno looks down at the bed too, watching the not the woman but the drip leading into her arm.

He hears cloth rustle, and glances at the ex-soldier when he reaches down to touch a limp hand.

'_She's suffered from severe mako poisoning…' _Cloud says softly.

_'Is it normal to have wild muscle spasms?'_

Strife glances sharply at him, and Reno knows why. He's dropped the carefree façade. Returning to look at the girl, Cloud shakes his head, almost confused.

'_No…not…I don't know. Mako poisoning normally leaves the body in a vegetative state, but…' _his voice trails off as his brow furrows _'She…died. She's meant to be dead.'_

'_Yeah, and don't I know it. You rebels are a slippery lot, in any case. Thought one bullet would've been enou-uh…' _Cloud openly frowns at him, and Reno curses at his slip. He had practically just stated that he had been the one to shoot her _'Hey, I'm a Turk, I had a job to do, yuh?'_

The ex-soldier narrows his eyes at him, far too self-righteous and condescending. Reno mentally tells him to stuff it. Times were bad, back then, and old man Shinra had been watching the Turks like a hound dog. He hadn't wanted to, but it had been his ass or hers and Reno was a firm believer in self-preservation.

_'So was she, once-'_

'_Yeah, I know, k? But I don't want your opinion, so shut the hell up!'_

Reno openly glares at the bastard now, finally showing his frustration on the surface. He refuses to admit that the blond may have touched a nerve. Cloud's face shows no change, and he snidely wonders if the man is capable of facial expression. Tension sifts through the small room in an instant, and the Turk barely holds back an urge to punch something. Instead, he sets his jaw and breaks off the staring competition with Strife, turning his back on him to face an annoyingly blank wall.

He hears the rustle of heavy cloth and the jangle of belt buckles behind him. Reno ignores the silence, jamming his hands deeper into his pockets.

'_She also has jenova cells. Inactive, but they're there.'_

Heavy footfalls sound a retreat as Reno swings around, eyes wide.

_'Wha- you sure? How do'ya know, anyways?!'_

Strife pauses at the door.

'_I just…do.' _He steps out the door _'Don't call me again.'_

* * *

The night air is cool, with a certain bite to it. It is mountain air, after all.

Vincent watches the small town, the flickering lights at windows, the silent streets. All is calm, on the surface. One would assume that things had always been this peaceful in Nibleheim.

He doesn't mind the chill; such discomforts remind him that he is alive now, truly living. Not locked away in a place where reality is twisted by his own guilt and subconscious. A place of warped dreams and hidden nightmares where he spent his suffering alone.

The lantern in his hand emits a warm light, and he smiles bitterly at the thought of those wasted years. No matter, he is making up for it now.

He gazes off into the mountains, marveling at their twisted formations. It gradually slides down to rest on the large building behind him.

Shinra Mansion.

Except, it is no longer referred to by that name. It was renamed Gospel Orphanage when the restoration first began five months ago. A lot has been accomplished since then. There are even some children living there now, but much of the building is still in the throws of disrepair, most notably, the lower east wing.

But that does not matter, he has dealt with it.

Lights at windows flicker, indicating occupants who are awake far past their bedtime. He only hopes the matron doesn't catch them, for she is a large, intimidating woman whom even Vincent steers clear of when is of fowl mood.

He is waiting for someone that should have been here hours ago, but he is not bothered much. He likes it out here in the quiet, watching the town in slumber. Night crickets chirp incessantly, breaking the otherwise silent night.

A slight nerve twitches his ear, and he turns to face the town again.

_-whumch whumch whunch-_

The faint crunch grows steadily in sound; he turns his impassive face to meet it. The shadowy figure atop the light-blue chocobo gently reigns the big bird into a walk. He raises the lantern in greeting as bird and rider approach, and light washes over them both.

The cloaked rider smiles faintly at him and nimbly dismounts.

'_Greetings.'_

'_Hello, Vincent.'_

She walks next to him, reigns in hand, to admire the mansion.

'_You didn't have to wait up, you know.'_

'_I wasn't expecting to.'_

She gives another small smile and lowers her head, seemingly abashed.

_'I…went to visit an old town…to see if it was still there…'_

He notes she sounds wistful, and sad.

'_And was it?' _he queries.

'_Hah' _She lets out a short laugh _'It will be there forever.'_

They stand in silence for a moment more, before she is gently head butted by her impatient bird. She laughs softly, and it sounds less sad. She strokes the bird's head affectionately in appeasement.

'_Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I know you're tired too.' _She coos, before unstrapping a pack off the bird's back, letting it slide to the ground. He watches in amusement as she woos the bird, combing its feathers with her fingers as she unloads it

Vincent sets the large lantern on the pavement, before leaning over to take the reigns. She looks at him, startled, and he sees that pinched look of weariness in her face.

'_Go inside, I'll take care it.'_

Blinking once, she nods, letting the leather ropes go.

'_Thank you.'_

He inclines his head towards her.

'_Goodnight Tifa.' _She smiles again before making her way to the orphanage door, and he leads her chocobo to the stables round the back.

* * *

**Authors notes: **I apoligize to everyone who's reading this. I haven't updated for a while as I am currently spending six months traveling around western Europe before I start uni next year. I will still be writing, but my updates may be a little late(I'm still trying to get my wireless connection onmy laptop to work.) 

So, hope you won't give up on me, and hope that you enjoy this chapter. Any questions/queries, just email/message me or whatever.

See ya!


	6. Back Again

**Back Again**

He's stopped at the inn in Kalm. It's too dark to go any further, and his head is buzzing with unanswerable questions. His arm is aching, yet even that pain won't block out the swirling thoughts and revelations of the day.

Cloud absentmindedly shuts the patterned curtains. It is dark and quiet now, the street-lamp light no longer spills into his room. He takes solace in the dark and the silence, trying to will his tired mind into falling into a similar state of quiet.

It doesn't work.

He sighs and rubs his temples with one hand. There's too much going on, and even now he feels as if his fragile grip on reality is slipping away. He want's to be numb again, to take each day as it comes. The long journeys and many deliveries allowed him to wallow in his weariness without baring the full brunt force of his guilt for the faith that he does not deserve from the ones who care.

But his mind is whirling, alive, and he has no choice but to listen to its questions.

Why was the _she _there?

That woman had died two years ago. His memories of her are vague and hazy, he has not thought about her for a long time.

Cloud sits on the quilt-covered bed and kicks off his shoes. How was it possible that she had ended up in the Northern Crater, where Reno said they had found her? Granted, he did not know how much of what the Turk had said was true. There was certainly a lot that Cloud had not been told, but he expected no less.

If she really was found in the Crater, that would presumably explain the mako poisoning. The Northern Crater was a natural fountain of lifestream. When she had died, her body had fallen into the mako at the bottom of a Reactor, which could also explain how she had ended up at Crater, but not why her spirit still inhabited her body.

And the Jenova cells?

For he had felt them there, pulsating softly under her skin, barely even detectable.

He blinks into the darkness, and finds himself lying back. His body is weary and sore, even if his mind is not yet sleeping.

Cloud does not remember the first time he met her; it was long ago. She was a Turk then, and he was nothing more but a Soldier grunt, walking in the shadow of a better man then himself. That part of his life is also hazy, he had forgotten it completely for a while, when he assumed the persona of Zack. Even now it still comes back only as fragments.

He suspects that's the reason why he did not recognize her when he first joined Avalanche.

It was the reason for a lot of things.

---------

He awakens, staring at a ceiling with an old-fashioned fan turning slowly. He is warm, and he finds the sensation both foreign and familiar at once. Sitting up slowly, he gazes about the small room. It is clean but shabby.

_A large, black man glares at him from across the room._

'_Hrmph, don' want no trouble from yer spiky arse, got it?' He stalks out of the room noisily. _

_The door barely closes before opening again, this time to a young woman with long dark hair, wearing an apron. Her eyes widen at the sight of him, soon replaced by a small smile._

'_Hey…how're you feeling?'_

Not her, he knew who she was straight away.

_--------_

_He is surprised at the late addition to their team. He hasn't seen her before, not in the rough, unorganized meetings held underneath the bar._

_Wedge smiles nervously, gesturing at the newcomer._

'_Hey Cloud, this is Sho-'_

_The woman cuts him off._

'_Grace, it's Grace now, remember?'_

'_Oh yeh-heh.' Wedge replies, with a nervous tic in his voice. Cloud gets the impression that the plump man often makes this mistake. Her clear green eyes turn to him._

'…_Cloud…it's been a long time…'_

'_What?'_

She hadn't questioned his lack of memory. He guesses she felt guilty, considering what was on her hands, but he places no blame on her. It was only after Biggs let it slip that she was a former Turk had he felt some sense of recognition. But he had not allowed the thought to develop, and so it was pushed away.

He had believed it unimportant.

_--------_

_By far, she had been the most professional of them. She moved stealthily, she held her shotgun with steady handed confidence and calm that could only come with long years of experience._

_He remarked that she seemed to know her way around the Reactor and she had looked at him coolly._

'_They're all built the same, really.'_

He had wondered briefly what other Reactors she had been in. Only special Shinra personnel were usually allowed inside. That meant Soldiers or Turks.

It turned out to be the latter.

_--------_

_When she was shot he felt nothing. Shock, if anything. One moment she was moving purposefully along the Reactor ramp, the next moment holding her hands to her belly as blood poured out._

_She had staggered back, falling against the railing, eyes wide in surprise._

_Her lips had moved, more blood spilling forth even as she spoke._

'_G-go-'_

_Barret had run forward, too late though, she was already slipping on her own blood. Weakly, she clutched at the railing, doubled over._

_Too late. _

_She keeled over the railing, off balance, wavering, and then falling, falling. He had grabbed Barret's jacket roughly and dragged the big man away; they were still being shot at. Bullets chinked off the steel wire ramp._

_The bomb was set. They had to get out._

He hadn't even paused to watch her descent. The second she had slid over and Barret had not grabbed her, he had run. He had wanted to live.

They had been quiet when they had reached the bar. Barret had gone off fuming. He had taken every assult on Avalanche as some sort of personal wound to his own person. Biggs and Wedge had concentrated on eating; stony eyed, speaking carefully when he had questioned them. The other woman, Jessie, had cried silently as she worked on her computer. Tifa had sighed, resigned and sad.

He had understood so little then.

* * *

The sunlight streams into the Piano Room brightly today, bathing it in a warm, yellow glow. Large windows, no longer smashed or boarded up, line the wall. Tifa smiles as she watches the children wrestle to be the first in line for breakfast.

'_You kids quieten' down now, no pushing!'_

The big, burly woman serving up porridge scowls at the hungry children. They become subdued at the sound of her booming voice, but only for a moment. Someone will step on anothers toes and the squabbling will break out again.

_Children, _she thinks,_ are the same everywhere._

Edge is no different.

And yet, she would not have them any other way. The kids remind her to be happy, to be thankful for all that she has. Despite their hardships, they smile, and Tifa strives to do the same, even if sometimes it is a little forced.

Because, even if he is not here, even if he does not care about her or about having a family, Tifa knows that they do. And, for the moment, it is enough for her to be their guardian, their mother, their provider.

These slum kids remind her that there is a future.

Eventually, all the kids are served. They scurry to take their seats at the long table, wolfing down their food in a way that that reveals their young lives have not been easy. The matron, finished for the moment, takes her own bowl to sit next to Tifa.

_'Seems like you've got you're work cut out for you Annie.'_

'_Ungh, tell me about it' _the matron replies, her voice a deep baritone _'They're all hyped up 'cause you're here. Specially the boys.'_

Tifa shakes her head, suppressing a smile. Gospel was made up of the older Slum kids she had managed to coax off the streets. They would be a handful in any case. The suffocating, melancholy atmosphere of Edge seemed far away in the face of the Nibel mountain range. The small mountain town was completely foreign to them, and they loved it.

'_Ok, what do you girls want?' _

She turns at Annie's voice to see three girls hovering nervously at her shoulder. They look to be fourteen or so, and they are hesitant to meet Tifa's eyes.

The shortest one, hair in messy pigtails speaks up hesitantly after looking at her friends for confirmation.

_'Uh…we wanted to…uh…welcome Miss Lockhart here…'_

Tifa smiles reassuringly, warmed by their curiosity, and nods for her to go on.

'_umm…'_

Her friend continues on.

'_-and we were wonderin' if-uh!' _The girl stops abruptly and all three titter nervously before stepping back.

'Goodbye!' 

'_Nice to meetchya.'_

They run quickly away, leaving Tifa perplexed. The children in Edge are not like this, when they want something they say it out straight. She turns to question Annie, only to find the woman struggling to keep in a barking laugh as Vincent seats himself beside her.

'_Should I ask?' _She raises an eyebrow.

Annie chuckles deeply. Vincent begins to calmly eat his porridge.

'_Some of them girls have developed slightly amorous feelings towards Mr Valentine, here-' _The large woman laughs again. Tifa's eyes widen. She raises a hand quickly to her mouth to stem the astonished laughter that threatens to bubble over. A quick glance at the man reveals a slight frown of annoyance upon his otherwise passive features.

Tifa struggles to regain composure, biting her lip as catches the matron's eye. They both snicker again and Tifa can't remember the last time she laughed like this with old friends.

It feels good. Pleasant, refreshing.

_'I'll be off, scamps will slack off if I dinna keep an eye on them.'_

Annie excuses herself, leaving to supervise the breakfast cleanup.

Gazing around the old room, Tifa can't help but marvel at the impressive change that is being wrought over the former mansion. It is nothing like the demon haunt whispered about in her childhood days, nor the decrepit place of shadowed nightmares they had journeyed to two years ago. There was laughter in these halls now, oblivious to the horrors that had once lurked below.

She wonders what _Vincent_ see thinks of the change, and whether or not he can see it without the tarnish of past memories. She sighs.

'_It's changed so much…' _she says softly, almost to herself. Her eyes linger on the old grand piano, lodged in a corner, which gave the mess hall its name. Annie said that she had got it retuned, but Tifa hasn't had the chance to test it out yet _'…you've done a wonderful job.'_

'_I have, in fact, done very little. It was Annie and the townsfolk who should be credited.' _

Tifa offers him a small smile.

'_You have helped though, immensely. I…I am very grateful for it.'_

He nods, gaze now roaming around the room. Tifa notices that one of the young girls from before lingers as she clears away plates, throwing barely concealed glances at the immaculate man beside her. Tifa bites her lip yet again and tries not to chuckle. Vincent has noticed all this, carefully ignoring both the girl and her own laughter.

_'You should be flattered.'_

'_hmm…'_

'_They don't mean any harm. Young girls are most often more mature then boys their age, so they become infatuated with men beyond their years. They'll grow out of it soon, you'll see.'_

'_Are you speaking from personal experience, 'Miss Lockhart'?'_ He gives her an appraising look. She laughs softly and look down.

'_Maybe.' _She glances up _'Mind you, Yuffie seemed to go through such a phase too, so surely you can't be completely unfamiliar with the concept.'_

'_hn…' _and she laughs again because he knows what she is talking about. Yuffie had barely concealed her admiration for Vincent and Cloud alike by repeatedly annoying them to strangling point.

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, and Tifa wonders if she should spend more time away from Edge. The city, for all it was built on the promise of a future, holds a thick air of hopelessness about it. She sighs inwardly, knowing she cannot afford to stay away. She is needed at Seventh Heaven, the children there are ill and dying, and need a mother to give them comfort against their fear.

Vincent breaks the silence with his deep, quiet voice.

_'I will be leaving soon, there are…matters of which I must tend to.'_

_'Of course.'_

'_Reconstruction can be completed unhindered now, I've removed all the…documents needed.' _He stands, still looking out the window _'and you needn't fear of any more hidden laboratories, this building is free of them, now.'_

She too stands, taking his empty bowl from his hands.

_'Thank you, I…jus-just thank you, for all you've done.'_ Her face is serious, and she finds it hard to convey the immense gratitude she feels. It would have been hard for him, to face this place, with all its tainted memories. She is thankful he has helped make it possible for this place to begin anew.

Vincent turns to face her, void of expression until he blinks and inclines his head towards her.

_'It is a good thing you are doing here, Tifa. Farewell.'_

'_Take care too, Vincent.'_ She replies softly, before he walks to the door, red cape trailing behind him. She lowers her eyes, picking up her own plate before heading to the kitchen, where the noise of children chatting and laughing could be heard.

She cannot help but agree with him.

* * *

The young boy leaps forward, brandishing his long spear at the monstrous creature before him. It snaps it's long fangs at him as he swipes the spear across the beast's face. He blinks rapidly, refusing to acknowledge the twist in his gut that tells him to run.

Yowling, the creature pounces, and the boy barely has time to throw himself to the side to avoid its claws. Scrambling to his feet, he raises the spear threateningly, shaking it so that the bright beads and colourful feathers jangle. It yowls again and swipes out, the boy thrusts the spear forward, jabbing at its chest area before jumping back to avoid another swipe.

It shakes out its tattered mane, bristles its mangy fur and stretches out skeletal limbs.

He grips the wooden shaft tightly with sweaty hands; eyes locked onto the gleaming yellow ones of the creatures. Panting heavily, he and the creature slowly circle one another.

It is a dead soul, a remnant of the feared Gi Tribe, which haunts the catacombs of Cosmo Canyon.

He bares his teeth threateningly, afraid and defiant of this dead but living creature. He is a guardian of this place. He will be strong enough to protect it.

The boy darts forward again, slashing at the creature's face. It shrieks and swipes deadly claws at his legs. Throwing himself forward, he uses his hands to flip his body over the ground and away from crippling slashes. On his feet, he dashes again, thrusting the spear deep into its side.

Ripping the weapon out, the creature twists and screams in pain. It's yellow eyes stay fixed on him, and he tries hard not to shake as he readies his spear once again.

A death leap, straight for his throat. He steps forward and _shoves_ hard, letting out a fierce bark from the back of his throat. Brittle bone splinters and decaying flesh is torn as the spear lodges into the monster's mouth, tearing out the back of its skull.

It gives out a massive shudder, before its body sighs, collapsing as its eyes grow dim and fade out. The boy hefts out his spear, watching as the husk crumples and deteriorates before his eyes. He staggers back himself, legs turning to rubber as he backs into the cavern wall, sliding to the ground in exhaustion.

He can only stare at the black ash he had just fought. For the moment, his brain is numb with what he has just accomplished.

A low rumble sounds next to his ear and he turns, startled.

'Well done, young cub, you fought bravely.'

The young boy smiles shakily, and tries to stand. He feels a surge of warm pride wash over him at the Elder's praise. It was hard earned.

'_Th-thank you, Elder Nanaki, I-'_

His knees collapse, and he falls ungracefully onto the thick furred back that has just moved beside him. He blinks away tears of frustration, shamefaced at this show of weakness in the face of his victory.

_'Grab a hold, M'hari, do not be embarrassed. Your body tells you to rest so you must, but not here.'_

Gratefully, the lad seizes a chunk of fur with one hand, using the other to pull himself up with his spear. He manages to stay standing, this time, and he puffs his chest out proudly with achievement. He squares his feet and lets go of the Elder's fur, brandishing his spear forward again.

'_I am M'hari, son of M'honso! I am Guardian of the Canyon!'_

His cry bounces off the cavern walls as a dozen echoes, and he is pleased by it.

Beside him, the red beast gives out a small '_wumph' _of approval. It is his first kill, an important step on the road to becoming a warrior. M'hari feels the Elder nudge his leg softly, and turns a beaming face towards his mentor.

Elder Nanaki nods at him, before turning away to head back to the surface. M'hari cannot help but marvel at the sleek beast, and the smoothness of his movements. M'hari is determined to be just like that, one day, except in human form.

He wipes his sweaty forehead with a hand, careful of the thread of beads that adorn his brow. Wing feathers from the small desert-bird will soon be added to this headdress, to mark his right of passage. When he became a man, he would have to hunt down a male chocobo in order to wear its strong, fine feathers instead.

M'hari jogs to catch up to the Elder. He is buzzing now, with achievement. It has been a long time since a new guardian has arisen. Granted, this was because those of Elder Nanaki's people traditionally held the role of Guardian, but M'hari was special.

There was a reason why Nanaki had decided to train him to become a warrior, using spear and knife instead of tooth and claw. M'hari was unlike other humans, he was unique.

M'hari could hear the Planet.

* * *

**Authors note:** Ok, I've done something I really wanted to try and avoid, I changed the events of the game. Nothing big-mystery chick/Grace/former Turk-shows up for the first mission and dies. Woooo

She is not, I repeat, an original character. She is from Before Crisis. Thats all I shall say on the matter for now.

M'hari will not be a main character, just mentioned a couple of times. I imagine him to be sort of a cross between Gau from FF6 and Kimhari from FF10 (no fur though heh.)

And I tried very hard not to make the Vincent scene sound stupid or corny. I think I succeeded...

Any ways, thoughts, opinions anyone? as usual.


	7. Phantom Trace

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Phantom Trace**

She has two weeks to do what she can to help improve the management of Gospel. There's not too much to be done, in all honesty, the set up is very much based on the Orphanage they have back in Edge. But she feels obliged to spend time here, in her hometown, to ensure everything is running smoothly and to make sure the kids here are happy.

The first three days have whirled past her. Annie and the two helpers; Maria and Toulie, had given her an extensive tour of the building, both complete and the in-progress sections, as well as demonstrating the schooling and activities they ran for the children. Tifa had met most of them as well, and gotten to know a few.

Tifa absentmindedly gnaws at the end of the pen with her teeth as she shuffles through sheets of paper. She is in Annie's office, looking at the expenses of the mansion's reconstruction. They have a very tight budget, and Tifa figures that she's going to have to wheedle some more funding out of Reeve and WRO once she returns to the city. It was not cheap to convert a decrepit old mansion into a place suitable to accommodate fourteen kids.

And there would be more to come, for sure.

Sighing, she taps the page on wood costs, pen now out of her mouth. There is precious little wood in the Nible area, most of it has to be shipped across from neighboring areas, which sucks up a lot of the money in itself.

Cid had fondly called her an idiot for not using cheaper building materials, but Tifa wanted Gospel to last. She wanted it to feel complete, whole, like a home. She wanted it to feel safe.

Scanning the page one last time, she thinks hopefully that the building supplies will come a little cheaper now that most of the floor and wall paneling had been completed. She files the documents neatly away before turning to the next lot.

A bell rings, somewhere, causing her to set down the paper work with a grin. Already the sounds of children scampering down stairs and through hallways can be heard as they rush to be in time for the second bell.

Tifa stands up from the desk, placing her hands behind her to stretch her back, before walking towards the door.

After all, no one wants to be late for dinner.

* * *

The rocky cliffs of the Northern Corel area were bordered by wind swept moors that stretched back far until mountains broke up the flat land. The sea wind that beat against these cliffs and these moors was howling now, buffeting her face and skin.

She scans the distant mountains again, eyes lingering on the dark smudge of construction that marks what will be the Planets first fully operational oil field. It fairly large, a little bigger then the old Reactors used to be. She has heard that the leader of Avalanche was responsible for finding the oil site.

A grim smile makes its way onto her face. That generation of the rebellion group had succeeded where she had only made failure. Even with all her fine 'Raven' warriors and enhanced strength, she had only played into the hands of a traitor.

She knew a little about that generation, she certainly knew what was like to be the torn in a lion's side. It seemed, however, that Wallace and his motley band of idealists, mercenaries and tag-alongs had possessed something she, Sears and the others had lacked.

They were all dead now, she was the only one left.

Sighing, she rubs her eyes before crouching back to the ground. Hand outstretched, she again tries to make sense of the fading tracks before her. Dark clods of earth reveal the skid marks of a heavy motorbike turning abruptly before speeding off.

The trouble is, there is nothing else to tell where they have gone from here. The earth is already sinking back into the long grass, worn down by wind and rain. Broken and bruised grass leaves have already grown anew. She cannot find any other markings after this, and that is what frustrates her.

This is the third time she has returned to this place, hoping that it will shed new light onto where the vehicle and its rider have vanished. But the markings are almost a week old, and sooner or later she has to admit that she has lost him.

Clenching her jaw, Elfe stands again, staring out into the coastline she has scoured during these past few days.

'_Know when you're beaten,' _she mutters to herself.

The trail's gone cold; she's going to have to start again.

'_Wark.'_

Absentmindedly, she puts a hand up to placate her feathered steed. The bird snaps out and Elfe barely avoids a nasty bite by snatching her hand out of the way.

'_Do you not want to eat tonight, nasty bird?'_

The black bird merely glowers at her before ruffling its dark feathers regally. The woman sighs again, approaching the bird and mounting it with ease.

'_You could try to be nicer to me.'_

It scuttles a little, and Elfe takes this as a no. Her chocobo, whilst being of good breeding, is very temperamental. She suspects this is why she was able to purchase it for a lesser amount then she would have expected for a black.

'_Come on, then,' _She clucks her tongue and urges it forward. It stretches out its neck and bolts.

For a moment she struggles to regain control before resigning herself to the fact that when Zirk wants to run, he will run. He falls back into a controlled sprint, at least allowing Elfe to guide them back towards the last town.

There she will be able to plan out another place to begin her search.

* * *

The boss had set Reno continual night watch of the woman as an example of how displeased Rufus was with him. The night watch wasn't the end of it, though, but he wasn't too fussed. It was not like Rufus could exactly 'fire' and 'remove' Reno, like the old days. The ex-president doesn't have that authority any more, and, most of all, he _needs_ every last man who is willing to help him.

Which, in all honesty, is not a common thing.

So, he is here in the bleak white room.

His frustration at Strife's attitude has faded somewhat; it's hard for him to remain bothered at what the ex-Soldier thinks about Reno's ethical values. He got what he wanted, sort of, which was some information on the girl's condition. It wasn't much, but it more then his boss had revealed.

Reno checks his watch briefly as his flicks through one of Elena's trashy magazines. He doesn't know why he brought them in here. He supposes he thought that his charge might read them, when and if she wakes up.

Elena. He supposes she would be scowling at him if she had seen him riffling through her stuff like that, whacking him over the head with them as she chased him out the room. He would be over exaggerating his hurt to an unsympathetic Rude and a disapproving Tseng.

He misses the old stiff-face man and the determined rookie like family. He feels guilty too, leaving them there in the crater, despite the fact that that would have jeopardized the mission.

And nothing must be allowed to jeopardize a mission.

Reaching the end on the magazine, he turns it over and begins flipping through it again. He doesn't really take in the writing or the pictures, just the colours. Gaudy, bright and obnoxious, god these things made him laugh.

The night is not even young and he has nothing to do. Rude would probably read some book on philosophy. Actually, Rude would more likely be standing straight, alert and aware and on guard.

Reno just yawns and leans back into his chair.

The tinny light of the room is buzzing softly, flickering every so often. He scratches his and looks around the room. He's done this every night of the week. A slow breath is taken in and let loosely out again. Except it isn't his.

His eyes swivel to the bed on the other side of the room. It isn't new, she breaths loudly sometimes, but there's always the chance that she will awaken. Reno's hopes aren't up too high, though.

The bed-head faces away from him so he can't see her face, only bits of her blond hair poking out from behind the pillows that prop her up. All he can see of her is her left hand resting on the mattress.

He begins to look away again, disinterested, but his gaze snags on the woman's hand. He waits; skin prickling, for some reason.

A moment later, her finger twitches, again it seems. When it moves for a third time Reno, face bored and bemused, reluctantly drags himself up off the chair. Hand in pockets, he trudges over to the bedside.

'_Yo.' _He says absentmindedly, half wanting a response.

_She looks like her sister,_ he thinks, for the millionth time. For a moment he even deludes himself into thinking it really is Elena. Reno shakes his head and gazes at the far end of the room; this whole business was heading nowhere. For Shinra, Soldier, even the Turks, it was over. It never could or would go back to the way it was before. Rufus was kidding himself if he thought people would ever trust the name 'Shinra' again. He knew he didn't, and he still worked for the guy.

When he looks down at the woman again her eyes are half open. He almost blanches because it looks like she's staring straight at him, but he realizes it must be just a nerve twitch or something. Sucking his teeth, he leans over to close them, only to jerk his hand back when she frowns slightly and turns her face away.

This time his jaw drops, and she's staring at him again.

He realizes he must look like an idiot and closes his mouth. He blinks instead. She blinks back in response.

'_Uh…' _Reno leans forward

She blinks slowly, as if she is regarding him. He feels tense, waiting to see what she will do, if she will have another fit like before. He hopes she won't.

'_Uhng…' _she groans softly, frowning as she moves her lips in a failed attempt to speak. She closes her eyes again, still frowning, and exhales. Reno considers her face, wondering if she has fallen back to sleep. Awkwardly, he clears his throat.

Her eyes open again quickly.

'_Hey-ah…how'ya feeling?' _Reno straightens; eyes still on her. He has no idea what to do.

Scrap that, he knows what he _should_ do. He should get Rufus or Rude or something. But he's not going to, not just yet.

The woman is trying to speak again, he can see that she's frustrated with the trouble she's having. He chews on his lip for a moment before speaking again.

'_Ok, before you hurt yourself trying to talk, let's sort out an alternative. One blink means yes, two means no, how's that?'_

She scowls and shakes her head.

'_Ah. Let's just stick to the good ole' nod and head shake, then, shall we?'_

She nods, scowl fading a little. She leans back into the pillows and sighs. Reno begins pacing, trying to think of something to say. He can feel her gaze on him, the same way he felt Strife's. He shrugs casually and turns to stare at the other end of the room.

'_So…welcome back, I should say, eh? Long time no see…' _His voice trails off. It's a moment before he remembers she's mute, glancing at her to see her response.

She's staring blankly at him. He raises an eyebrow in response.

'_Eh?'_

The woman frowns softly again, averting her gaze away. Reno's puzzled, he steps toward her again.

'_What, no recognition?' _He tries to sound light hearted, as if it is no big deal. Inside him, a cord of worry sounds, and he can't help but remember Strife's words on the presence of Jenova.

He moves closer, trying to catch her eye. She is pretending to concentrate very hard on her hands, wringing them together.

_'Hey…c'mon…'_

Her eyes flash up angrily; brightly enhanced by mako, before falling back meekly to her hands.

_'You don't remember me, do you?_' 

She shakes her head.

_'Do you remember…uh…Elena?'_

Another head shake.

'_Ole' Veld?'_

And another one.

'_Tseng?'_

Head shake.

_'Rude?'_

Nope.

'_Shinra?'_

Negative again.

'_Do you remember your name?' _he says, exasperated.

She pauses, seemingly lost in thought. She looks up at him slowly, before nodding carefully.

'_Finally!' _Reno's throws his hands in the air and turns away. He had begun to consider that they had got her identity wrong, and that her semblance was nothing more then a very curious coincidence.

Of course, true coincidence was a very rare occurrence in this Stone Age. Jittery, he stands with his hands on his hips before turning around again. She is watching him, warily.

'_What?'_

Frowning, she raises a hand from the bed. It trembles as she does so, like she has very little strength. Reno cocks an eyebrow, bemused as she cups it and lifts it to her mouth.

_'Uh…'_

Reno just stares at her, wondering what it is she wants. She is repeating the gesture slowly, looking at him expectantly.

'_You…are…thirsty?' _he tries out.

She gives a small, curt nod before leaning back onto her many pillows.

'_Whaddaya want me to do about it?'_

Her eyes widen and she looks at him confused. He tilts his head and gives a smirk.

It fades quickly when she lowers her eyes in resignation and turns her face away.

_She is not Elena,_ he tells himself, angrily. He had forgotten that in the face of their likeness. Elena would have glowered at his smirk and ignored him haughtily, not accepted submissively. They were so similar, almost mirror images of each other despite the three years that lay between their ages. For a moment he had let the two merge, he had forgotten that this woman does not know him any more.

Reno glances at her again. Her eyes are closed in the semblance of sleep. He scowls at her profile, angry with her for causing his mistake. She shouldn't be here; Tseng and Elena should. She was dead, a part of the past, no longer a Turk.

A Turk's contract only ran out when you died. She had escaped that, which had been ok. What had not been ok was when, after three years of quiet inactivity, she had thrown her lot in the rebels, the members of Avalanche, the other side.

That was unacceptable, and this time, they could not afford to spare her.

He slumps back into his seat, despondently, mulling over loyalty and what it means to be a Turk.

* * *

**Authors notes: **So, she awakens. This character, as some of you may have guessed, is Shotgun, from Before Crisis. She was a Turk, and the older sister to Elena. As they don't actually have standed names, Shotgun is a sort of nick name while her birth name is Grace.

Now all I have to work with is the scripts, so forgive me if the characters are a little out of wack.

Yes, Elfe' makes an appearence too :) She is the former leader of Avalanche, but more will be revealed later on.

Hope you like!


	8. Meet the Stranger

**Meet the Stranger**

There are calls for him to acknowledge, there are parcels for him to deliver, but right now, he has not the strength to deal with any of it.

He lies, back on the hard floor of the church, sweat on his brow and panting hard.

The pain is fading now; the burning bubbling under his skin is growing fainter. He does not relinquish his tight grip on his left forearm though, and his fist is still clenched tightly.

Cloud winces as he tries to sit up. He only half succeeds, getting to his knees before he doubles over as a wave of nausea overcomes him.

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he needs a drink to get rid of it.

He manages to sit up, his face a somber, down cast mask. The soft, sweet scent of lilies gently filters the air. Cloud glances at the flowerbed, but there is no one there.

Not any more.

He inhales deeply, raising his head and closing his eyes as if in prayer.

Cloud had arrived back in Edge-or Midgar-six days ago with an overwhelming urge to see a smile. He had parked Fenrir a block away from Seventh Heaven before walking up to the converted bar. It had been evening, and the lights flickered in the windows as vague shapes moved within them.

A couple of older children had scooted out of an alleyway, joking and shoving each other loudly as they made their way towards the wooden steps. They passed him warily, allowing a wide berth between him and themselves.

It must have looked strange, or even threatening, to them. A man standing outside an orphanage as if he was waiting for something. Maybe he was.

'_Hey stranger, what 'chya want here?'_

One of the bolder ones met his eyes as they huddled around the front door protectively. The boy visibly flinched when he saw that Cloud's eyes possess that cursed mako glow. Cloud inwardly flinched too, at his reaction.

_'So? Wh-addaya want here?'_

He is impressed they don't back down. He shakes his head slowly and looks back up at the building. There is a small figure watching him now, from one of the windows. Her hands press up against the window and with a pang, Cloud realizes who it must be.

_'Hey, we're talking to you, clear off, creep!'_

Cloud jerked his face back to the kids in response to the hostility in their voices. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Marlene fumbling with the window latch as she tries to open it.

He had turned and left without another word, coward that he was, and retreated here, to this sanctuary.

A bitter laugh comes out, echoing throughout the church. He no longer has a place at Seventh Heaven, that much was made clear that night. Tifa had wanted a family, after Meteor, and a home, things that Sephiroth had stolen from them both years ago. He had been unable, unwilling to give them to her.

Now, it seems she has made them for herself, without him.

Cloud leans back against a pillar, weary and tired of this life. His thoughts turn back to Rufus, and what Reno had shown him, and this 'Kadaj.' He wants to ignore them, pretend they hadn't interfered in his self-exile from humanity.

He sighs, rubbing his arm tenderly.

He falls asleep there.

* * *

_'I'm sorry, have we met?' _

'_No.'_

'_Oh.' _Tifa frowns at this newcomer. Annie is hovering outside the doorway anxiously.

_'You know, Annie really is the one who's in charge here, I-'_

'_I know that.' _The visitor cuts her off. Her voice is quiet, yet there is a hard edge to it _'Seeing as you're here, I'd prefer to speak to you.'_

Tifa shifts her weight and tightens her lips. She doesn't quiet know what this woman wants, but she feels wary of her nonetheless, like she is here to disturb the peace.

The older woman stands calmly before her, patiently waiting. Tifa places her at about thirty, but she can't be sure, it's always harder with women. Chestnut brown hair is cut smartly to shoulder length, framing a narrow face with a small, hard mouth. Her attire is that of a traveler; sturdy leather boots, trousers and a faded green knee length over coat that looks like its seen better days. Not mentioning the long Wutaian style sword she had glimpsed among the strangers packs.

Tifa wonders who the _hell _this woman is.

_'Why?'_

The woman's eyes flicker.

_'You…were apart of Avalanche, were you not?'_

Tifa fixes her gaze sharply onto her; uneasy at the way the woman's words have made her feel defensive. She lifts her chin just a little as she replies.

_'What has that got to do with anything?'_

'_You…understand a bit about the way this Planet works then, don't you? Regarding lifestream.'_

Tifa can't help but feel that she is being tested, judged even, in order to be found worthy of something.

_'And?'_

The woman sighs and walks to the window.

'_Miss Lockhart, have you, in your duties as a guardian and warden of an orphanage, seen any…unusual children,' _she glances sharply up '_children who display any unnatural traits or gifts, who…hear…who sometimes hear voices.'_

She stands there, fingering the windowsill uneasily. Tifa is staring at her incredulously, baffled.

'_No-I…no…'_ Tifa frowns again, wondering if she is just not hearing things properly, as this woman seems to be making no sense at all _'wha…why-'_

'_Are you sure? You don't seem it.'_

'_I'm sorry, but I really don't understand what it is you want from me.' _She is sick of this, had enough. This woman, whoever she is, is being far too elusive for her liking. Tifa all but glares at the visitor, adopting the stern, teacher-like gaze she has picked up from Elmrya.

'_This is an orphanage, for children, and I don't know if you're aware of this but most children hear voices at some point in their lives. Imaginary friends, faeries…whatever.' _She pauses for a breath _'Most of those here are past that stage already. As for traits, gifts, every kid has something special she or he can do, so if I am to be of any help to you, you're going to have to be a bit more specific!'_

Tifa definitely feels better after that rant. The woman is staring at her, slightly taken back by the curtness in her voice. Tifa is quiet surprised at it too, she doesn't often run her mouth off like that.

The woman clears her throat; her stern composure is back in place. Tifa wonders what will come next, an apology, cross words, an awkward silence.

'_In that case, I shall go with you when you return to Edge.'_

Tifa's jaw drops.

* * *

Rude studies the woman in front of them. He still marvels at her similarity to Elena, and he knows that his partner can't get over it either.

It's foolish, really. She, Grace, was here long before Elena. She was more professional too, as a rookie. Rude mentally shakes his head in frustration or helplessness, he doesn't know.

She is sitting up on her bed now, meek and quiet as the doctor takes a sample of blood. She doesn't even wince when the long needle goes in.

Beside him, Reno leans casually on the doorframe, flipping a coin with his long, pale fingers.

The doctor straightens.

'_All done there, good girl.' _He removes the blood filled vile, storing it safely in a small box before moving to bandage the woman's arm. She is compliant. That done, he packs up his things, turning to them and nodding, _'I'll get the sample tested straight away. Tell the Pres…Mr. Shinra that it will be done s soon as possible.'_

Reno shrugs and Rude gives the elderly man a short nod. He leaves quickly, fingering his collar.

Grace breathes a sigh of relief when he is gone. She brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

'_It weren't that bad, baby-doll.' _Reno flips the coin high and catches it on the back of his fingers.

'_Don't call me that.' _She frowns softly, _'My name is Grace.'_

'_Yeah yeah…' _

From behind his shades, Rude's gaze flickers between the two, and their exchange. His partner was a strange man, and sometimes, even he did not know what was running through Reno's head. Rude shifts his weight slightly from foot to foot.

It is time they left the room, and the woman in it. They need to be back by Rufus's side, they have jobs to do, however, Grace's despondency makes him feel reluctant to leave her alone. She was once a Turk, and such bonds are not lightly lost.

She looks up at them.

_'Do…do you think I will be allowed to go outside soon?'_

Rude shifts uncomfortably. Rufus's orders had been to keep her strictly contained. She was allowed into a small, makeshift gym once a day, but the Boss had been adamant about not letting her out of the building. He doesn't have the heart to say so, though. He wonders if he is getting soft.

'_We'll see.' _He answers, ignoring Reno's frown. She simply nods and sighs again.

Once out of the room, they walk crisply to the common room. Or at least, he does. Reno saunters like he owns the place.

'_Yo Rude.' _Rude inclines his head, and indication that he is listening. Reno continues _'Why'd you always tell her that, why don't you just say the big man says nada?'_

_'…'_ He sighs _'She needs something to hope for…'_

'_Nee, she already knows you're lying.'_

'_You tell her no then.'_

His partner doesn't reply to that. Rude didn't think he would.

* * *

Grace.

That is the one thing in her memory that is clear. Her name. Everything else is hazy, fuzzy, unsure. A clouded mirror, which she cannot wipe clear.

Sometimes she gets so frustrated, but there is nothing she can do. She can only wait it out, flick through the magazines that are on the table, listen to the crackling radio on her bedside.

She cannot remember any of them. After they realized that they stopped talking so openly to her, they didn't let their guard drop. They were careful when they spoke to her; they were hiding so much.

She doesn't even know how she got here.

Rufus, the wheelchair man, has only visited her twice. She is wary of him; she can feel his cunning, his authority, and his cleverness. She doesn't like the fact that he always hides his face. The fact that he does only heightens the feeling that he has something to hide.

There is something else too, about his presence that unnerves her. It is acidic, bitter, yet somehow…familiar.

Grace curls up tighter on her bed. The two Turks (why does that word roll off her tongue so easily?), Reno and Rude, they are not so bad. The bald man pities her, she knows, and the other is uncomfortable when he is near her. Yet, they are both kind to her, in their own, detached way. She does not know what to make of them, other then that she doesn't mind them too much.

She sighs, rubbing the small patch on her arm absentmindedly. She doesn't remember ever fearing needles, but they are strange, dislikable, and the doctor is too pretentious.

Standing, she walks over to the window. It is locked and barred, but she does not think it would be too hard to escape if she wanted to. They must have overlooked it. Does she want to escape, though? Where would she go? There is no one she knows to contact, and her memory of the country's geography is hazy. A large city, Midgar, she frowns as she concentrates. That would be the place to go, she would be hidden, lost.

And then what?

She fingers the windowsill, quiet as the afternoon sun falls on her face. Try and start again? It wouldn't be that hard. Grace thinks she could bluff her way through all the kinks, people don't ask too much in the city. She smiles at this, because she remembers that she is, or was, a city girl at heart, and that's one more thing she knows about herself.

Grace is sick of this room, though. She wants to breath, go outside, see for herself what she only half recalls. The sky is only so beautiful from behind glazed glass. She wants colours, people, smells. Surely those things will trigger more aspects of her memory?

'_Not today, though.' _Muttering to herself, she taps the glass lightly. She is still too uncertain, unsure of herself. She will stay here, for the moment, too learn more, to perceive. She cannot leave just yet.

In all honesty, she is afraid to.

* * *

He knows he missed her just barely, a couple of days at the least. His old boss's daughter. He can't say he really wanted to meet her anyway. He wonders what she is like now, all grown up.

But that is of no concern to him, at this present moment. He is certain that Tifa will be able to manage with the visitor.

What escapes him is how one conspicuous looking man in black leather and a big motorcycle can pass by without leaving so much as a trace of their passage. Has he left the continent, or is he still hiding among the mountains?

Vincent had spied the black clad man from afar when he was making his way towards Nibleheim, close to about four weeks ago. More curious then worried at the time, he had let it slide, yet now he wonders if that had been such a wise idea. In truth though, he had wanted to face the mansion, destroy its secrets and prevent any innocents falling into whatever other horrors Hojo had hidden in there.

But the man. The more and more Vincent thought about him, the more uneasy he becomes. What was the flash of silver around the man's head? Was it just a fancy helmet, or was it, more worrisome, a slick of silver hair?

He grunts softly to himself and continues down the worn track that will lead him to the flatland of the Rocket Area. He will inquire at the town, and see if they have noticed anything, or anyone, suspicious.

* * *

**Authors note:** Sorry its been a while, I've had a little trouble getting motivation for this fic. 

Anyway, the plot thickens...dun dun dun durrrr...


	9. Running

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FF7

**Running**

It all began so fast; Marlene is still reeling in the shock that this is actually happening. All there was was a scream and a shout and he was holding a girl by the throat and then it all became mad as kids were dragged from slumber by the chaos. He had laughed at them, grabbing them tightly before discarding them.

So they ran. Her feet beat against the wooden floor, as scared and desperate as the kids around her.

A lot of them are crying. Marlene only scrambles away faster, running from the laughing, terrifying man who mocks their fear. Tears are coursing down her face and she desperately wishes that her Papa or Tifa, or even Cloud where here to save them.

She hits a wall hardly and hurriedly races around the corner. An older boy pushes her back, waiting behind the corner, brandishing a brass candlestick in one hand. His face is pale under his dark mop of hair-_Tiel's his name-_and he motions her to keep on running before launching himself out and around the corner.

She does.

'_Come out and play!' _The deep, playful voice chuckles, ever coming closer _'We know you're her-agh!'_

'_Devil man!' _She hears him shout.

A scream and a heavy thump, and Marlene cries harder as she scurries down the stairs. She trips and falls, tumbling down them heavily before landing in a broken pile at their feet. She is so bruised and sore, she cannot get up, but the man is walking down those stairs, slowly now, and she has to get away.

She begins to crawl, not even daring to look over her shoulder. Her knees and elbows are scraped raw and she is so afraid. She doesn't want to die!

He is laughing again, at her, and she sobs harder. She stumbles to her feet and runs into to something, knocking it over and falling down again.

His heavy footsteps stop just behind her. She squeezes her eyes shut and curls up into a little ball. He is going to kill her.

* * *

Cid smokes a cigarette as he watches his men unload the heavy crates that he has transported here to Mideel. They had some of the grain from Rocket Town, as well as rice and a whole damn bunch of oriental herbs and spices from Wutai. That sort of product was quiet popular in this small, isolated town,

It was a profitable business, delivering the planets global trade by air, if not a hard one. The hours were long and tiring, and he was away from his wife and home for long periods of time. Then again, nothing else could ever satisfy Cid's unquenchable thirst for the skies.

'_You wouldn't mind lendin' us a hand, would ya, C'ptain?' _one of the crew jokes from where he and another carry a smaller crate of 'Rocket Town Homegrown Tea.' They are all sweating like pigs in this heat, and he doesn't envy them.

Cid raises an eyebrow at the man.

'_What? Is that complaining I hear? D'you want your _salary_ docked, scum?' _He mock-scowls at them all, chomps on his fag, before continuing on his way, pretending not to notice the loving two fingered salute they send him behind his back.

'_That's latrine duty for the week, Jonston,' _he calls over his shoulder, changing his mind. The named man curses as his friend's laugh.

It's hot in Mideel, and humid, the sort that there's no escaping from even indoors. He wipes a hand over his sweaty forehead, wondering where this place was when they invented the breeze. Not even the evening air had softened it. If anything, it made it worse.

He didn't like making the crew work so late in condition like this, but they had been behind schedule, and Cid was never someone to leave a job for the morrow.

The town has changed a lot, over the past two years. It was no longer a hole in the ground for a start. The town had rebuilt itself to a respectable size now. The locals aren't too bad either, despite the fact that they don't seem to realize how stuffy their humid, tropical paradise is.

The local merchant approaches, smiling widely as he views the stock Cid's men are hauling out. Cid scans an eye around the loading for his second mate and eyes him over.

'_Ah, Mister Highwind! Again you bring many good stuff to us, yah?' _The little man grins again before offering Cid a cigarette to replace the one he's just spat on the ground. He declines.

'_Nah, thanks mate. I'm trying to quit.'_

'_Ah, yes, yes, of course.' _Nodding but not really understanding Cid's special brand of humour.

That idiot Neil has finally walked over, bringing the cargo product list as well. He nods in acknowledgement to the Mideelian and hands the file over.

'_It's all there, C'ptain, and almost all out.'_

'_Good, now go away.'_

Neil rolls his eyes and performs an exaggerated bow.

'_Yes, my king…'_ he returns to the unloading. 

'_Gnrr…' _He turns to the merchant _'You heard him, it's all there, the usual…'_

'_Yes, thank you Mister Highwind, I have your payment here, I-'_

'_Ciiiiid!'_

The man falters at the sound, Cid groans, waving a hand at the man to continue.

_'CIIIID!'_

Damn that girl, he thinks, she had probably lost some materia, or had caught one of the guys checking her out. He keeps a determined back to her, glaring at the confused man before him.

_'Yeah? The same prices as usual. Neil can get that off you, now, do you wanna change your order for the next deliv-'_

'_CID!'_

He whips around, glaring angrily at a panicked Yuffie.

_'Can you NOT see that I'm TRYING to do BUSINESS here!?!'_

Eyes wide, the girl looks up at him. He eyes her for a moment. She is not cross or angry or flustered, which makes him wary. She blinks, trembling a little as she holds out the PSH to him.

What the-?

'_Cid…it's Edge…the bar-er-orphanage…' _Yuffie's voice quavers, which is definitely unusual. Slowly, he takes the PSH from her hand as she continues.

'…_it…it's been attacked.'_

* * *

It had only been the frail tone of Elmyra's voice to tell Barret that something was up.

'_What?' What is i' tha's wrong Elmyra?'_

The woman on the line broke down and sobbed. He sets his jaw, worried for his little girl and his friends in Edge.

_'Elmyra?' _

_'…'_

'_Elmyra!'_

'_I'm sorry!' _She cries, before taking a breath to calm herself. He's getting jumpy, and worried. At any moment he feels like he'll snap with the tension and dread, because gods know he's not the most patient of men _'Oh Barret…it's…this m-man…h-he attacked us-'_

'_WHAT?!' _he roars, and his co-workers around him look up from their lockers, stunned.

'…_and hurt some of the kids, a-and o-one…one…s-sorry…' _She stumbles over the words again. He flexes his mechanical hand, trying not to crush the PSH with his normal one _'…an-and I can't get a hold of Tifa, a-and-'_

'_Don't say anymore, I'm coming over.' _He hung up sharply, grabbed his sports bag and left the locker room with a face of steel.

If his little girl, or Tifa, was hurt, gods have mercy on the bastard who did it, as he, Barret Wallace, certainly wouldn't.

* * *

He has come in to check on Shotgun-

Grace. Grace is her name. The other one, Rod, had given her that nickname after she had bested Tseng in a one out of three bulls eye round using hand guns.

God, he hadn't thought about that in years. That was years back, when she was still as green as a bean sprout.

Reno clucks his teeth at the memory. Old Tseng had congratulated her, ever the good sportsman, and Rod had named her. Some of them used it, Tseng never did, neither did Rude, and she never referred to herself as Shotgun either.

Still, it had stuck, for a while.

'_Brought you present.' _He says lazily, throwing the magazine on the bed as he saunters in. She looks at him coolly and raises an eyebrow.

'_Thank you.' _Her brow furrows slightly as she picks it up. Reno had brought her the tackiest, trashiest women's magazine he could find. Deliberately. He wanted to see her reaction.

She thumbs through it briefly, before sighing to herself and putting it to the side.

Reno is disappointed. What was he expecting? A scolding for the eighty-five pages of crap he offered as entertainment? Elena would have done that, even though she read stuff that was little better.

Yes, maybe that was what he had been expecting, or hoping for. Stupid really. For sisters, they certainly had little in common, apart from their looks and choice of weapon. And their reverence for regulation and authority, but that was it.

'_So, how're ya today? Remembered anything interesting yet?' _He flops down onto the low seat. Boss man thinks that she is more likely to tell one of them what she remembers, instead of a shrink.

'_Mm…' _She doesn't look at him _'I remember my father…'_

Reno cocks his head, almost interested. She shakes her head at him.

'_Not much. Not even his name…I just…' _Her frown is more pronounced now _'I know he wanted a son, but he got me instead…so…I tried to make it up to him by…'_

Her voice falters, and she shakes her head more vigorously this time, like she's trying to clear away the fog.

Reno reaches a hand behind his collar to scratch at the itch on his back. Grace isn't speaking anymore, just staring out the window. Evening is setting in.

'_Anything else?' _he prompts, but his heart isn't really in it. He doesn't want to hear her memories, not the childhood ones. Neither does Rufus. Rufus wants to know how she got to be where they found her.

Reno doesn't know if he wants to hear that either. He was never the counseling type. Leave that to Rude, Tseng, Elena. Heck, anyone but him.

'_I-' _She balks, like she is unsure what to say. She holds out her hands in front of her face, before gently, even gingerly, folding them over her stomach.

'_I…sometimes dream I'm falling…landing in a sea of green…' _Her voice is very quiet now _'and when I wake up, my stomach…tingles…on the scar…'_

Something in Reno's own stomach drops, heavy weight. She couldn't be-

Yes, she could, the rational part of his mind reasons. It wouldn't be too surprising if her subconscious brain relived the moment she…died whilst she slept.

He rubs his chin, the relaxed, unbothered façade up.

'_Weird…but dreams usually are. I had one once of Rude eating a bunch of flowers. Don't know why.' _He stretches his arms, letting the lie slip off his tongue easily. Rude eating flowers? Where he'd pulled that one from, Reno did not know.

His cell beeps in his pocket, he looks at it curiously before lazily reaching for it, flipping it open and answering it.

_'Y-ello?'_

'_Reno?'_

'_Rude, baby, how've ya been?'_

He can almost here Rude's scowl on the other end of the line.

_'Reno, Rufus wants you up here right away. We going to have a visitor.' _

_'What?'_

_'No questions. Now.'_

Rude hung up. Reno scowls at the phone, before shoving it back into his pocket. He's got a bad feeling about this, and he wonders what the fuck Rufus is up too. He shrugs off the worry and stands.

'_Well then, baby doll, I gotta shoot out now.' _She looks at him solemnly; he throws her a grin that he doesn't feel _'Don't miss me too much.'_

He leaves. He can feel her gaze on the back of his neck as he does so. It makes him shiver.

* * *

As soon as the door closes she stands up. She waits until the lock has clicked and his footsteps have faded down the hallway before she goes to the window in three long strides.

Grace stands there, for a moment, unsure.

Now, she has to get out now. Something is niggling at the back of her brain, gnawing, telling her she has to get out of here.

It's quiet lucky, actually, that Rufus has a visitor to keep him and the two Turks occupied. Grace wonders if it is coincidence or just pure luck. Either way, it doesn't matter.

She tries the window catch, hoping on a whim that it will be open. It, naturally, isn't. She bites her lip, staring at the thick glass. She taps it with her fingernails, stalling.

_Enough, _she tells herself.

Determined, she walks back to the bed, stripping off the crisp white sheets in a professional, business-like manner which slightly surprises her. Using her teeth to make a tear, she rips the sheet into long strips. Briefly she wonders if they have her room on video security, before concluding that it probably wasn't. It was, after all, first and foremost a hospital room.

The sheet is now effectively mutilated beyond recognition. Briskly, Grace begins winding the strips of linen around her right fist. Over and over, she wraps the material over her knuckles and lower fingers. Like a boxer, she thinks wryly, not that she ever remembers seeing one in the flesh.

She ties the end securely; her fist is thickly padded now. She clenches it and hits the palm of her left hand softly, hoping it will provide enough protection.

Back to the window, then. She's decided to punch through the lower panel, it's only logical. Grace flexes her fist in anticipation, before throwing a cautious glance behind her.

There is no one there, of course.

_Gotta get out, _the little voice tells her, _it is time, now's the time, go!_

She breathes in; swings back her fist, and punches.

_'Ah-fuck!'_

She recoils in pain, burst of white-hot fire sears up over her hand and arm. Eyes clenched shut, she stamps the floor hardly, trying not to curse out in pain.

'…_shit-shit-shit-shit…' _she mutters under her breath.

She glances down at her hand, wincing as she sees the stark red blood over the white linen. Her left hand grips her wrist tighter and she crouches on the ground.

'_Dammit…' _she whispers fiercely, angry at the stinging tears plaguing her eyes. She thought that she was stronger then this!

Breathe deeply, big breaths, calmness, ok, things will be just fine. She risks another look at her hand.

It's not as bad as she first thought. The pain has lessened a little, now more of a pulsating throb then a burning fire. There's one long chunk of glass that had sliced right through her makeshift glove, making her bleed. Gingerly she touches it, wincing as the pain flares up as it moves.

_'Ok…ok…I can do this…'_

Setting her jaw, she grips the shard of glass with her fingernails, takes a deep breath, and yanks it out.

_'Ohr-gord-'_

She almost passes out, but manages not to. Cradling her hand, Grace screws up her face and tries to tell herself that she's being a sissy.

She doesn't care.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it HURTS!

It's a little while until she calms down. She realizes that she's sweating like a pig. An exasperated chuckle escapes her at this thought. She opens her eyes and examines her hand again.

Stupid fist is bleeding.

Grace grits her teeth and removes the smaller shards without much trouble. Quickly, she unwinds and rewraps the bloody linen strips, this time a bandage instead of a glove. She looks at the window to admire her handiwork.

It's quiet shattered, but still relatively intact. Cracks snake their way across the window pane. It won't take much to get the rest of the fractured glass on the floor though. There's a nice little hole attributed to yours truly in the middle.

Right. On with the show.

She treads carefully back to the bed, jittery. There's only so much protection hospital slippers can give your feet from broken glass. Ripping off the blanket and fitted sheet, she covers both hands before proceeding to push and punch out the rest of the window.

The feeling of urgency is growing stronger, bordering on the edge of panic. Surely someone would have heard her hit the glass? Her breathing quickens and another wave of sweat pores out of her body.

She gives a little growl as she rips off the last of the jagged glass. The bottom frame needs to be as clear as possible if she doesn't want to lose more blood.

But, time is a wasting. The blankets are now torn and a little bloody. She throws it over the windowpane as padding, folding it as much as possible to protect her already scratched skin.

_Let's make like a banana and split. _Her kid sister used to say that, when they were very young. Before they grew apart. Before-

No, concentrate on getting outta here! 

She scrambles out the window, wincing as the sides scrape at her body. She falls ungracefully to the ground in a heavy heap.

'_gnnrrr…'_

Her knuckles are throbbing more painfully now, and the cuts along her body sting like they've been rubbed with salt. She realizes that she's landed on glass shards that had fallen outside.

'…_nice one.' _She mutters to no one, still on her back and staring at the evening sky. Grace sighs.

Something in her scolds her for lazing around. _Go on, get up on your feet, now!_ Slowly, she picks herself up off the dirt ground (why couldn't it have been grass?) She lost her slipper some where in her tumble out the window, and she has to hop on one foot before finding it again. She picks off the glass embedded in her skin, not wincing at the bloody marks that litter her body. Something is turning into steel inside of her. Grace squares her shoulders and straightens her back, taking in a deep breath, before striding confidently forward.

Grace has left the building.

* * *

**Authors note: **Oh my gawd, so sorry about the long wait, I just came to a complete brain stump with regards to this fic, which I only just broke out of. So sorry for making you all wait!! 

I know its moving kinda slow on the plot front, but i love delving into different characters heads. Hopefully things will be back on track and moving forward, so hopefully you're still willing to join the ride(god that sounded goofy.)

By the way, I love writing about Cid, he's such an awesome character XD

Anyway, all thoughts and opinions appreciated, but no biggie, I understand that it HAS been a while (sorry again!)


	10. Arrive and Depart

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FF7

**Arrive and Depart**

Elfe looks down at the city formally known as Midgar. Rubble and ruin, that's all it is, really. Her gaze moves to the small metropolis on its fringes; Edge.

She has no idea why anyone would want to live on the doorstep of something so depressing. Midgar was a city fashioned from the false hopes and empty promises of Shinra Incorporated. All that's left is the emptiness of that hope, right in front of the noses of the people it failed. And here she was, returning back after so many years to her old battleground.

It can't be helped, though.

Tifa Lockhart, ex-member of the second strain of Avalanche, rides her blue chocobo down the rocky sea cliff a little way in front. Elfe knows that the woman does not trust her, but that is no big surprise. Elfe was never good at winning people over to her side. She had inspired with her strength, her conviction, not her words. That had been Sears' sort of thing. With that quick, charming smile and those earnest eyes, he could make anyone believe his story.

She sighs softly at his memory. It still hurts, even after all this time.

The Lockhart woman glances back at her, but says nothing. Elfe shrugs to herself and moves Zirk into a walk. She had been practically breathing down Elfes neck at Gospel. Children were another one of Elfes 'weak spots', but she had seen enough to know that what she was looking for was not there. Trust is an issue here, and Elfe has a hunch that Tifa will not make her search easier once back in Edge.

It was hard enough convincing the woman not to kick her straight out of Gospel Orphanage.

'_Dammit.' _She mutters to herself, trying to ignore the itch that is growing on the back of her right hand. They say old wounds feel the rain coming, and Elfe has never doubted it. Looking up, she calls out to her companion _'Miss Lockhart, we may want to find shelter, it seems a storm is brewing.'_

'_Hn?' _the young woman looks back again, dismissive _'We can continue on little way, I'm not bothered about a little water.'_

Neither of them says another word as the thunder sounds.

Stubborn, of course, but then again they all would be. Avalanche. She doesn't want to appear weak, naturally. Then again, she does have her charges to hurry back too, like a mother hen. Elfe thinks that this is probably the more likely reason for her haste. Apparently her PSH ran out of battery, and in the mountains, a power plug was slightly hard to find.

The thick clouds open up, letting loose the awaited rain.

Elfe draws her coat tighter around herself. She had forgotten how cold it could get on this continent. She is too used to the heat of Cosmo Canyon.

Scaling the Midgar coast is not the easiest way to travel from Junon to Midgar-Edge-whatever, but it certainly is faster then going around the mountains. Both of their steeds can cope with water, luckily.

Elfe has to admit, Tifa was certainly an experienced traveler, and a determined one too. She knows her stuff.

'_There's a cave here we can shelter in for the night.'_

Raindrops batter her eyelids as she peers up again. The rain is intensifying. Elfe will be glad to get out of it.

'_Ok.'_

Zirk, irritable bird that he is, jitters nervously as they approach the depression in the cliff face. Elfe follows Tifa's lead and dismounts, leading the birds inside. The slate cave is damp and uninviting, but at least it is out of the rain.

'_A bit cramped, but we'll manage.' _

Elfe nods in agreement.

They make camp for the night.

* * *

He doesn't flinch when the door bursts open, and his two highly trained body guards are taken down with frightening ease. He looks on, cool demur ever in place.

The Remnant's footsteps walk echo against the wooden floorboards. Rufus can feel the illness tingling, responding, to his presence.

'_I do hate lies, Mr. President.'_

The corner of Rufus's mouth twitches, ever so slightly.

_'I apologize. This time you get the truth.' _The lie slips so easily from his lips. He gives out a small _what can you do? _smile,_ 'The object you seek fell from the helicopter while we were running from you. I'm afraid we were careless.'_

The Remnant circles him slowly, sneering.

'_Is that right?'_  
_  
'I swear it.'_

_'Fine,' _The Remnant, Kadaj, regards Rufus's face, almost lazily drawing out two cards _'then swear on these.'_

Tseng and Elena's ID cards fall to the floor, bloodstained, and he almost winces. He cannot forget their capture; it is in the remaining Turks eyes every time they look at him. Shocked, he is not. Surprised, maybe. Shaken, no, his resolve is far too strong to waver now.

He has unfinished business, and he intends to see it out.

_'Why did you do this?'_ he responds, unfazed.

_'We need Mother's power.' _Ah, he thinks, of course. Like little lost babes, they are _'The reunion is coming and we need her.'_

_'Reunion…'_ Some part of Rufus's mind wonders what theories and speculation Hojo would devise to explain this second reunion. He dismisses the thought as irrelevant. He wants to hear what this Remnant has to say.

'_My brother's and sister's who all share Mother's cells will all assemble, and together we'll take revenge on the planet! We already sent out the invitations, but...' _a small laugh of self mockery _'you know, someone's gone and hidden the guest of honor.'_

_'Invitations?'_ But he already has an inkling of what it may be.

Kadaj sneers again, eyeing him and his bandaged hand.

'_You know all about that, don't you?'_ The young man tilts his chin up, looking down upon Rufus. Indignation almost flares up in him at the gesture, but Rufus makes no move. He is control of this situation _'The stigma, Mother's legacy lives on in the Lifestream and makes it happen.' '_

The boy begins to pace, frustrated, agitated, could he feel the presence of the box? No, Rufus doesn't think so. Not yet, at least. The fragmented cells were not strong enough; they couldn't manifest, multiply, not for the moment, in any case.

'_She does…so much for us, and we…we don't even know where to find her!' _Kadaj continues, and Rufus can clearly see the agitation. Perhaps the Remnant does sense it, but only on a subconscious level _'But…what can we do? We're just remnants, really. Remnants of Mother's legacy. Until we find Mother and receive cells, we can't be whole again. Geostigma and a legacy aren't enough for a true reunion.'_

'_What do you mean?'_ Kadaj and his brothers were the fragmented remains of the once great Sephiroth. Rufus knows this. But becoming whole again? He had assumed that they wanted they wanted their 'mother' in order to gain the strength of Sephiroth, becoming whole. But the boy made it sound like something different then merely acquiring true Jenova cells.

Could he mean-  
_  
__**'**__But Sir, surely you've noticed?'_

He has. The resemblance is uncanny. Unnerving to say he least.

There is a glazed look in the boy's eyes, almost high. The tingling, the ache in Rufus's arms intensifies with each step, and he feels his chest constrict with something unnatural, known more commonly as fear.

Suddenly the room is far too small, and the boy is far to close. Heavy tension laces the air, so suppressing. His arm is buzzing now, aching.

The Remnant kneels, lowering his head so that that fine, silver curtain of hair completely hides his face. Rufus can feel the illness shifting, almost squirming in his skin as the boy slowly raises his head. He has to clench his teeth and jaw shut tight, he will not show the aching, sizzling pain shooting up his arm.

Finally, he meets the Remnants gaze, and he realizes he is looking straight into the terrible eyes of The General.

* * *

She is so weak, so tired already, and it frustrates the hell out of her. Already her head is giddy and her gaze is spinning, and she has not even left Healin's grounds.

_I'm supposed to be stronger then this, _she thinks angrily as her tired body slumps against the tree trunk. All was well until she stepped out and away from the back courtyard. Now she feels like an invalid, pathetic really. She hadn't expected the fatigue to hit her at such a force already. Surely this isn't normal?

Grace bites her lip hard, drawing blood, before stumbling to her feet again and moving forward.

'_I am _not _going back.' _She mutters under her breath, taking another few painful steps before sinking to her knees. She fights the bitter urge to turn around and head back. Stubborn pride will not let her. She will see this through; she will get out of here.

Sucking in a deep breath, she rises and continues.

It would be easier to go back, so much easier.

She's forgotten something. Her stomach turns.

No. She hasn't.

Uncertainty seeps into her dizzy mind.

_No!_ Grace stubbornly collects her thoughts and bundles them into a single thread. She knows what she has to do, and nothing, not even her own mind, was going to convince her otherwise.

She is not going back.

There was no way on this planet she was going back. They would have to drag her there kicking and screaming (though something tells her she has more dignity then that) but still.

No going ba-

She crumples.

* * *

'_You really are going then?'_

Elder Nanaki of Cosmo Canyon, Warrior of the Desert Hill Lands, turns back to look at the young man-cub.

'_Yes. I trust you to take care of the canyon in my absence.'_

'_But I-'_

'_M'hari.' _

The boy looks down at his feet, abashed and upset. Nakaki can all but smell the disappointment in the boy, and is amused by it. He wants to come. Eager to see the outside world, eager for adventure, the suntanned child does not want to be left behind.

Shaking out his mane lightly, Nanaki paces back to the forlorn child. He sees M'hari shift his weight uncomfortably, and raising his head, Nanaki butts the child gently in the chest.

Eyes wide the man-cub stumbles backward, and Nanaki cannot help but be slightly amused by the surprised expression on his face. Humans amuse him like that, the way they could twist their faces into expressing so many different feelings at once. Surprise, slight anger, slight hurt, worry and stubbornness, all there in one expression.

He chuckles.

'_I will not be gone long, cub, and rest assured, you will have your work cut out for you here.'_

Turning back to look at the mountain range before him, the beast sighs softly. The news of the attack troubles him and he must be swift if he is to rendezvous with Barret at the Costa Del Sol Port, but he is loath to leave his beloved Canyon. What if the attack is not an isolate one?

He can hear the boy breathing behind him, smell the dust and sweat on his skin and pungent musk that cries out 'human.'

'_Take care of it.' _He says softly, and the bead charms that adorn the boy's wrists and clothes clink as he is startled.

'_I will, Elder, you can count on me.'_

And Nanaki feels a swell of pride in his chest for this young man-cub, whom he regards as his own. His lips peel back to reveal long gleaming canines and his one yellow eye crinkles, and he gives a small bark of exhalation before setting off.

* * *

That sick, heady feeling has returned, but Denzel bites his tongue and continues down the stairs. There are more important things to be done tonight, things he needs to know.

Its dark and quiet, none of the other kids are awake, not even Marlene. There are painting missing and lost furniture, all broken and destroyed last night.

While he slept.

He just doesn't get it! Why the hell would anyone do something like this? Hot tears threaten to spill, and even though its dark, he refuses to let them come.

_Act like a man, not a wuss,_ he tells himself, trying to make his face as still as Clouds.

Cloud.

That's a heart wrenching thought, even though he will never admit that to ANYONE. His hero, his role model, once even maybe his dad, gone for two years like a ghost. Like his old family.

But, here's the thing. The thing that's biting the back of his mind, refusing him sleep and more achingly annoying then this damned disease. It came with a white face Marlene clutching his arm for dear life amidst the chaos that surrounded the aftermath of the Attack. It came after the grief and shock that a boy named Tiel would never joke around with them again. After the stunned horror that some, some MAN, would attack and kill one of a house full of defenseless kids. It came after the realization that Marlene had been one step away from being Victim Number Two.

It came with three little words said in raw whisper between choking sobs as he did his best to comfort the girl he thought of as 'sister.'

'_Denzel, C-Cloud's back.'_

And that was it. That was one night ago.

Pain flares on his forehead and he feels a line of slick, wet pus seeping down his temple. He wants to vomit, but manages to hold off the heaving retches while he wipes the line of pus away.

Down, down, and dark in the hallway, yet it seems so empty, so foreboding. As if the place itself knows that something terribly _wrong _happened here.

Tiel.

Only a little older then Denzel himself. Taller, thinner, with darker hair, and dead.

Denzel bites his lip hard and continues on, down the stairway, through the hall and into Bar Lounge. They call it that even though Tifa sells no more liquor; it still feels like one. All those tables where they eat_-Tiel once stood on the table to announce his eleventh birthday_-and, yes, the front door.

Softly he scuffs his bare feet along the panel wood floor. He's a little bit scared, apprehensive, and he doesn't know which would be worse, opening the door and finding Cloud gone, or opening the door to find him _there._

Because for so long, he hasn't.

'_He was there last night, like a guard, but…I didn't see him during the day.'_ Marlene had admitted earlier that evening, and that had set off the sting at the back of his mind again. Neither of them had voiced the thought _'will he be back again tonight?'_

He realizes that he has been standing stupidly in the Bar Lounge for the past ten minutes or so doing nothing. He frowns, putting on his 'hero face' before hesitantly making his way to the front door. Slowly, he reaches up and opens it up a crack, hoping, dreading what he will see on the outside street.

Tinny streetlights illuminate the cracked sidewalk and shabby road.

Denzel's heart doubles over as he sees the bulky shape of Fenrir beside the hydrant, next to a dark silhouette of a lone man with a big sword.

'_Cloud…' _He whispers, slipping through the doorway and onto the front step.

He really is here. He really did save them. He came home!

He all but runs to the figure.

'_Cloud!' _and he sees the familiar but forgotten head of spikes turn at his voice.

'…_Denzel?'_

He grins and halts some paces away, just staring. Hid forehead is throbbing, but for the moment, it doesn't concern him.

'_You're back!'_

But Cloud doesn't answer, even though Denzel waits. He realizes that Cloud isn't looking at him. Apart from that brief moment of recognition, Denzel realizes that Cloud has somehow slid his gaze away. The smile slowly sinks away from his face, and he can feel a bubble of confusion beginning to swell under his chest.

'_Cloud?' _he tries again, but this time Cloud pulls his entire face away, turning back to the street he was monitoring before.

Dismay pushes down the exhalation he felt before, beating it to a pulp with a stick.

'_I…aren't you-' _he fumbles his words, wanting Cloud to look back at him and ruffle his hair, like he used to.

'_You should be asleep.' _Comes the softly spoken voice, but it sounds so empty. Denzel wonders if Cloud really even cares.

'_I ca-me out here to see you!'_

Clouds head dips, turning ever so slightly towards him. The bubble of confusion has popped, leaving in its wake bitter disappointment and hurt. Rejection, Cloud doesn't want him here, and Denzel's fists become tightly clenched.

He can feel the pus oozing out of his hurting Stigma, but he ignores it.

'_Don't you…don't you even care!?' _He shouts out, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. But he doesn't try to take them back.

Silence, and…

'_I'm sorry.'_

But Denzel doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't. He turns around and runs back inside, slamming the door firm shut.

Sorry wasn't enough.

* * *

**Authors note: **Sorry about the wait again, lots of things happening in my life. 

Well, hopefully some of you are still out there, reading away. ...I've started the next chapter, so hopefully it should be up fairly soon...


	11. UPDATE

Hey there everybody! Sorry about the long silence. As you might have noticed, I have long given up fanfiction and am now working on an original project I have been working on for a long with a good friend of mine. I apologise for not finishing some of these fics, but I hope you'll at least take a look :) Enjoy!

The first chapter of the Eariee Project is now LIVE

[link]

Any one who hasn't heard about out little project, The Eariee Project is an online illustrated novel by *Cae-sar and myself.  
Writing by myself and drawings by *Cae-sar. Story by both of us.

The first chapter is now up and the first page of the second chapter will be up tomorrow. Sunday the 8th, 6pm here in perth Aust.

Feed back on the site would be awesome. There are a few glitches in IE browser, which Julia's tried to mend with no luck. But who uses IE any way. Also just had a major problem with Comicpress which resulted in my losing 5 pages, just re-added those.

This is going to be a challenge for both of us, so please give us any feedback or criticism you have. Julia's done a wonderful job on the website design, so it's left to me to try and write decently.

The first 4 chapters have been written and we have a pretty good head start on this P:

Due to its nature of being a novel and not a comic its going to take at least 30 pages to get going. The story is really going to pick up around chapter 4 so please be patient


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